Anyone But You
by LINAxx
Summary: She is an eighteen year old LA Socialite. He is the bane of her existance. When these two enemies unknowingly catch evidence of a major crime on tape everything they had ever found familiar is about to change... Or is it? Nilly NatexLilly HM/CR. LEGAL.
1. Chapter 1: Lilly

**A/N: New Story! For those of you waiting for the final update of _These Words_, I'm sorry I didn't update it today, but it _will_ be updated before the weekend is over. I just had complete inspiration for this. It might be a little dull because it's the intro chapter, but anyways, Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

Anyone But You

Chapter One

"Come on! You have to!" The voice was one of my best friend. Or, well, she _would_ have been my best friend if she wasn't currently putting me in such a position. She had called me less than two seconds ago and she was already pleading with me. See, the thing is, there's this party tonight that she insists that I go to. Normally, I'd jump at the chance to go to an awesome celebrity party, but I had a huge English essay to finish before the following Monday. I mean, really, what teacher gives their students an essay the Friday before it's due? Isn't that against human rights or something? It's cruel!

"Mileyyyy," I whined, flopping into my desk chair, "I can't! This essay is huge, I need to get started." I explained. The laptop on the desk was open and I had already started researching. Usually, I'd be putting off any school work until Sunday, so it was an odd occurrence for me to be locked up in my room right after school on Friday. But this essay was really important. It was worth almost ten percent of my final grade and I needed to keep up my English mark if I was going to get into the universities I was considering. Graduation was just around the corner and I couldn't afford any slip ups.

"Lilly, but this _party_ is huge," She just kept trying to convince me. I have to say it was starting to work, "Besides! You can work on it tomorrow, right?"

"But I don't _want_ to work on it tomorrow," I complained to her, "What kid wants to do an essay on their eighteenth birthday. Besides, you and Ollie are still coming over for movies right?" Yeah, tomorrow was officially my eighteenth birthday. Today would be my last day as a kid. I couldn't say I'd miss it really though. No more of mom and dad saying 'Because I said so' and I wouldn't have to deal with curfews. Especially when august rolled around and I moved out. I'd been counting down the days until tomorrow and finally it was just about here.

"Yeah, yeah," Miley brushed off my plans and I frowned. I didn't plan to make a big fuss out of my birthday, I wasn't into the whole big bash shebang, but I did want my two closest friends by my side. It had pretty much been a birthday tradition for me. Me and Miley would go rent some movies, Oliver would come over and complain about us picking several 'chick-flicks', and we'd all eat popcorn and sit around my basement until really late. That usually resulted in Miley sleeping over, but Oliver always went home. Despite that me and Ollie had been friends since preschool, my mom still had a rule about boys sleeping over. Ew, I could never like Ollie that way.

"Come on! _Lola_ has to be there. I need my right wing," She pretended to sob and cry into the phone in an obviously fake way. My fingers unconsciously began to drum on my desk as I began to consider the idea of the party. I knew that I'd have to pull an all nighter if I went, because I definitely couldn't manage to finish this essay in one day, and doing it on my birthday was _not_ an option.

"Ughh, Miley," My head flopped back. I could almost see the devious smile on her face. She knew how to make me cave.

"Pleeaaase," She pleaded, "We can leave early if you really want to," I groaned, banging my head onto the wall beside my desk. I sighed theatrically, mulling over the decision one last time before making my choice.

"Alright, fine," She squealed, "_But_," And she quieted down a bit to hear my conditions, "We're leaving early. I'm not staying out later then eleven tonight, okay?"

"Sure, sure," She said. The way she answered me made me picture her waving her hand nonchalantly in the air as if to say my comment didn't really matter. She probably thought I would have so much fun I wouldn't want to go home, but she was wrong. I was really dedicated and serious about my schoolwork now a days, more than I had been in past years. When I had first started out as Lola Luftnagle in eighth grade I hardly cared about my work, but now that my future was actually on the line, Hannah events suddenly seemed much less important.

"Okay, so the party starts at seven," She informed me, "It's the usual, there's going to be a red carpet, a band, you know."

"Yeah, I know," I rolled my eyes. I think being Lola for five years now meant that I knew the ropes of a celebrity party. Apparently she thought she needed to explain it to me every time.

"I'm going to pick you up at six forty five, okay? Be ready."

"Wait, wait," I stopped her, "But it starts at seven?" If we left at quarter to seven it was inevitable that we wouldn't make it on time. She said it was a 'huge' party and was so insistent that we not miss it, yet we were going to be late.

"It's called fashionably late, missy," She laughed and my eyes rolled. Fashionably late? I don't remember Hannah _ever_ being fashionably late. Besides, wasn't that a diva thing to do?

"Hey Miles?" I asked, "Who's playing?" It was usually some indie band, or someone that was inexpensive. Usually the big time rock stars were actually invited to the party and didn't have to get in as 'the band'.

"Uh, um," She panicked. I furrowed my eyebrows, "What's that daddy? You need my help? Gotta go Lilly! Be ready!" She hung up on me. Confused, I looked at my cordless phone oddly before shutting it off. Huh, that was weird. My eyes glanced over to the clock on my bedside table and I grumbled when I saw the time. It was almost four, seeing as how I had spent nearly an hour on the phone with Miley. That left me with an hour to do some research for this stupid essay, and then another hour and a half to get ready. I don't understand why she couldn't have told me about this party days in advance. This was such short notice and I had no idea what I was going to wear.

So after going through several websites to get statistics I could use in my essay, I finally shut my laptop and began to get ready. I looked through my closet, venturing into the Lola section for a snazzy dress or something edgy for the party. I stopped when I saw my black tutu dress with laces up the front. I leaned my head to the side, considering it for a moment or two. I hadn't worn it since the tenth grade when I went to Hannah's sweet sixteen, and I wasn't even sure if it fit me. It was edgy, yes, but I wasn't so sure it was Lola anymore. With me growing older, Lola's outfits grew a little less crazy. Lola had slowly become a kind of... edgy sophisticated. She was a little less 'Woah-what the hell' and a lot more 'Woaaah' sexy speechless.

It was then that I ran my eyes along my clothes, looking for something else. I looked over so many outfits, taking way too much time to pick something out. I finally settled on something out of my _Lilly_ section. It was a black pinstripe dress that I had intended to wear to the school's Winter Formal. Unfortunately, my mom had had other plans and forgot to tell me that I would be spending the week before Christmas break at my dad's house in Henderson, Nevada. Ironically, that was the same week of the much awaited Formal, effectively making me miss it. My mom should never be allowed to plan anything ever again.

Grabbing the dress out of the closet I laid it on my bed. Luckily, I didn't have to perfect my hair since I'd be wearing a long red wig all night. So instead, I set to work on my makeup, or rather _Lola_'s make up, since our makeup styles differed drastically. My normal makeup was pretty much just a touch of liquid eyeliner and some mascara, Lola however was _black black black,_ then possibly add in some crazy bright coloured eye shadow depending on the colour of the wig for the night. Today I was going to be a red-head, so I was just going to stick to black, white, and grey.

When I was finally finished, my eyes were done up in a dark smoky look. I grabbed my new red wig that was conveniently already styled. It was layered and teased and the bangs were pinned nicely to one side. Pulling my blond hair up into a bun, I put the wig on, clipping it in tightly until I could shake my head without it falling off. I checked the clock again and saw that I still had half an hour left. The dress came off the bed and onto my body and I watched myself zip it up in the full length mirror on my wall. It was a shame I never got to wear it to my Formal, but at least now it would be in a dozen and one magazines. Not that I was super famous or anything, but being a teen pop sensation's best friend did get your picture taken quite a few times.

Finally, I popped on a pair of red and black wedges to compliment both my hair and my dress and grabbed my large sunglasses. Note: Large sunglasses are key to keeping your eyesight when the paparazzi are around. Throwing my phone and a few necessities into my large checkered purse I took off downstairs. There was still about fifteen minutes before Miley got to my house so I figured I would grab myself something to eat. It wasn't like they ever had any good food at these parties anyways.

"Hey Mom," I smiled walking into the kitchen. My mom was sitting at the table doing banking or something, "How do I look?" When she looked up she smiled at me, nodding approvingly. Oh, and yeah, she knows about the whole Hannah/Miley-Lilly/Lola deal. She actually came to a concert once. It would have been fun, had she not completely imitated my style down to the exact leggings.

"Isn't that the dress you bought for the Winter Formal?" She asked, looking it over.

"You mean, the dress I spent a fortune on and never actually wore to winter formal because I had to spend a week with Dad and miss it?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She just shook her head, smiling as she went back to her work. I walked to the fridge, opening it and surveying it. We hardly had anything good, considering my mom was on some sort of health kick. Either that or we hadn't bought groceries in a while. Sighing, I closed the door and opened the freezer, grabbing out a fudge-sicle. Yum. My mom had never liked buying them, but they had been my favourite ever since I was a little kid, so if she didn't buy them, I always did.

"You shouldn't eat those when you're all dressed up Lilly," My mom muttered, not even looking up from her laptop and the papers scattered around her.

"Relax Mom, do you really think I'd be clumsy enough to spill liquid chocolate all over my dress?" She looked up pointedly and I rolled my eyes, "Okay, okay." I sighed and took one last large bite from the treat before dumping it in the sink. When my mom heard the thump of it, she looked up, realizing what I'd done.

"Lilly!" she scolded. See, I have a tendency of just putting food in the sink, whether or not it has the ability to melt. Mom doesn't like it when she has to clean up my messes.

"You're old enough to know not to do that," She snapped, narrowing her eyes at me, silently telling me to clean it up.

"But Mommmmy," I whined, smiling, "I'm not an adult _yet_, that comes tomorrow," She opened her mouth, most likely to reprimand me, but instead the doorbell rang. "Whoops, gotta go, that's Miley!" I told her quickly, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and sprinting towards the door. Well, it wasn't really sprinting when you're wearing these shoes. It was- well, I'm not sure, but it was faster than walking.

"Bye Mom! Love you!" I called, pulling the door open and shutting it behind me before my mom could get another word in. I had a grin plastered across my face as Mr. Stewart led me to the limo. Miley couldn't come to my door herself for risk of paparazzi catching her. No body really cared enough to follow me when I wasn't with Hannah, so we were safe as long as she stayed out of sight until we reached the event.

I crawled into the limo next to Miley and saw Oliver sitting next to her. I smiled at the both of them as Mr. Stewart shut the door and went to sit up front. He usually sat with us in the back, so this was rather odd. Also odd was that we had a long stretch limo, not one of the smaller ones I was used to. Miley was sitting next to me, normal, but Oliver, who was dressed up rather _nicely_ as Mike, was fidgety.

"What's with the clothes, _Mike?_" I asked, raising an eyebrow. He had on jeans, and a dress shirt over top of a regular band t-shirt. I'd only ever seen him in the baggy zip up hoodie and his pants around his knees as Mike. I had to admit, he looked a lot better this way.

"Um, uh, nothing!" He yelled, his eyes darting around. Miley elbowed him in the side forcefully but she kept smiling at me as if nothing was wrong. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at the two, my head tipping to one side.

"Somebody wanna tell me what's going on?" I asked, and both of them immediately shook their heads. Oliver kept mumbling 'Nothing! Nothing's going on! Why would you think that?' to himself as if he was trying to convince anyone but me. I leaned back in my seat, eying the both of them but neither slipped up. Miley laughed nervously a couple times, but other than that nothing. Besides, Oliver was always just a little weird.

When we finally stopped at wherever the party was being hosted it was ten after seven. Not too late, but probably not what Miley considered Fashionably late either. Miley checked herself in the mirror a couple last times and then moved over so she was next to the door. She pinched Oliver, who had been so focused on the floor, and then he moved right next to her, blocking me from getting out before them. When the door opened, flashes erupted. _Hannah_ quickly scrambled out, and she pulled _Mike_ out along with her. A couple seconds later I emerged from the vehicle. I couldn't see anything at first, but once my eyes got used to the flashes I noticed the words lining the 'wall' of the red carpet. _Happy Eighteenth Birthday Lola!_

"Hannah!" I screamed, pouncing on her, "I can't believe you did this!" She just laughed, shoving me along. I had the biggest smile on my face. And to think, I had been so close to staying home with an essay and missing my own surprise birthday bash.

There weren't many people on the carpet considering we had been late. That was probably what Miley wanted, for me to be the centre of attention at my own birthday instead of having much more famous people surrounding me and getting more attention on my own red carpet. Awh, she just thought everything through. I must have hugged her twelve times and thanked her more than I could count on both my fingers and toes by the time we got inside. The large room was decorated and had a large food table with all my favourites on it- Even the fudge-sicles, which I was sure would melt soon if no one ate them. I'd better get started. But before I could make my way to the table, Hannah pulled me back.

"Just so you know," She smiled, "Your essay is taken care of." I furrowed my eyebrows at her, asking her what she meant.

"Oliver's brother, Micheal, did the same assignment last year for a different teacher. Long story short, Ollie and Me may have convinced him to lend it to us," She explained. I know, I know, plagiarism is bad and everything, but if someone was willing to lend me their essay so I didn't have to do one on the only eighteenth birthday I would ever have, sue me for jumping at the chance. Besides, I'd known Micheal since I was a kid, he actually used to baby sit me, and he was super smart. I hugged Miley again, thanking her for the billionth time that day.

"And Ollie!" I yelled, turning on him. He had a scared look in his eyes as I threw my arms around him, "Thank you!" I smiled. When he finally realized I wasn't going to kill him for keeping this a secret from me, he hugged me back tightly. My cheeks were already hurting from smiling so big, until of course, I heard the live band come on.

"No." I mumbled, detaching myself from Oliver and turning to Miley. She gave me a guilty look, and my jaw dropped.

"Why is _he_ here?!" I spat, my eyes wide. Miley merely shrugged, Oliver looked terrified.

"Because you and Jason are friends, Shane thinks your cool, and they offered to play for free?" The guilty was plastered to her face as she tried to convince me not to get mad.

"Yeah, but I don't have a problem with Jason or Shane," I narrowed my eyes, "This is supposed to be my party, He's going to ruin it!" I yelled over the music. See, the thing is, me and one Nathaniel Gray never got along. That's a large understatement. Any time me and Nate were in the same room we were practically at each other's throats. At first, the both of us had tried to be polite, but eventually we both gave up because it always ended in disaster. I knew he and Miley were good friends, and if I had to spend my entire night around that excuse for a civil human being I would rather be at home doing that stupid essay. A ten paged essay was heaven compared to this _jerk._

"Just avoid him!" Miley told me, steering me towards the food. Did she know my weakness or what?

"I can't believe I even have to share air with that thing," I pretended to barf as I looked over the food. I picked up one of those spirally lolly-pops and undid the wrapper on it. I probably looked a little odd, an eighteen year old, well almost, in a pinstripe dress licking a lolly-pop that would look more at home in a six year olds hands. Oh well, it was tasty.

"Relax, Lola," She sighed, taking a glass of punch. Oliver came to stand on my other side, his eyes glazing over the various candies and trying so hard not to take one. Thankfully my party wasn't to the extent that Traci's sweet sixteen had been. That had been just awful. I think I ate my body weight in sugar that night.

"How can I? I have to deal with _that_," I spat again, looking over to the stage, waving my spiral lolly.

"If it helps any, he'll probably ignore you too," Miley tried to make me feel better. As I watched the stage, I saw Jason wave to me and I waved back, forcing a smile. It wasn't that I didn't like Jason; actually, the exact opposite. Me and Jason were pretty good friends. It was actually at Hannah's sweet sixteen that I met him. He'd commented on my choice of attire, the tutu dress that I had thought about wearing tonight actually, and we'd ended up having a whole conversation about designers and styles, which led into images and stereotypes. It was probably one of the best conversations I'd had in a while. Those were the good days. The days before I had even met Nate, or rather, the hours, since I'd met him and Shane that night too.

Shane had been nice. We didn't really click though. I mean, we had friend potential, but we didn't spend nearly enough time together to find out if we had things in common. He was a good kid to just joke around with when you needed a laugh or a good time, not someone I would ever really go to with something that was on my mind. Then of course, Nate. I'm not going to even start on him, because I swear I'll be sick. Just, ugh. From the beginning, neither of us liked the other. At the time, he had had a serious crush on Hannah, always vying for her attention, and annoying me in the process. Doesn't a guy know that to get to a girl's heart, he had to go through her best friend? And trust me, he didn't get far. I'd given Miley a bad review about him and I guess he hadn't liked that too much because he had honestly been out to get me ever since. Then again, I wasn't any better.

"Let's dance Lilly!" Miley shouted in my ear as the Grays got off stage for a break and probably to enjoy my party. I don't see why Nate gets to come to my party and have fun. He should be _miserable_.

"No thanks!" I yelled over the dance music that the DJ was playing, "I'm going to get a drink and finish this, okay?" I told her, holding up the spiral candy that was half done. She nodded and then grabbed Oliver without asking him, dragging him into the crowd and leaving me to stand at the large table by myself. I turned to the punch bowl, holding my lolly-pop securely in my mouth as I poured myself a glass of the red liquid. Hopefully it wasn't spiked or anything. I took my full glass in one hand, and held the sucker in the other as I turned to watch the dance floor again. Except someone took me by surprise and then I felt liquid dripping all down my dress.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry," My eyes immediately went down to my dress. Thank god it was a black dress, so the red punch wasn't _that_ noticeable. But still, I had paid a ton of money for this, and I wasn't like miss Hannah Montana who had a bank account full of green. I may have been Lola Luftnagle, but that didn't mean I got paid for it.

"Ugh," I groaned. I looked up from my dress, my eyes falling upon the one person I didn't want to see. My jaw tightened and my eyes narrowed in anger.

"Well, I'm not," I answered, and within seconds my drink was all over the front of his shirt. His jaw dropped and he seemed shocked. Wasn't it obvious by now that I wasn't going to play nice?

"What the hell was that for?!" He yelled, wiping furiously at his white shirt. I smirked at the fact that his stain would be _much_ more noticeable than mine. And it was only eight thirty, so he had the entire night ahead of him.

"Language, Gray," I mocked, crossing my arms over my chest, "Aren't you supposed to be the _sensitive_ one?"

"You make that _very_ hard," He spat, staring me down. I only smiled at him in an 'yeah, you know I win' kind of way. It annoyed him and I took pleasure in that. But it didn't last long, because our -gag- _moment_, if you could even call it that, was thankfully interrupted.

"Lola!" I looked to my right and saw Jason and Shane running up to me.

"Jason!" I smiled, wrapping him into a hug. He pulled back, looking at my dress, and then up to me.

"_Nathaniel_ poured punch on me," I rolled my eyes.

"I did not!" He protested, "It was an accident! Besides, look what _she_ did to _me._"

"It was an accident," I mocked, turning to roll my eyes at him. The second I turned back to the other Grays my face went back to happy. Shane opened his arms to me and I hugged him as both boys wished me a happy birthday.

"We got you a present!" Shane declared excitedly. He shoved me a box that was wrapped up neatly. I could tell instantly that Shane hadn't been involved in the wrapping, or else it would have resembled news paper.

"Awh! You guys!" I said, pulling them into another hug. When I opened the box my eyes were set on a silver chain with a guitar pick on it. I looked it over for a moment and looked up to them. Shane and Jason looked nervously at each other, wondering if they had gotten me a good gift. A large smile broke out on my face and they were instantly at easy.

"Thanks Jason!" I hugged him, again, "Thanks Shane!" He got another hug too. I was a hugging person, okay? Hugs were cool.

"Ehem," I heard an obvious cough from behind me. I turned to see Nate standing there with his arms crossed and a smug, expectant grin on his face.

"Thanks Nathaniel," I told him in monotone, my eyes rolling again.

"What? I don't get a hug?" He mocked, an eyebrow raised. Shane and Jason could easily feel the tension between us.

"You wish," I scoffed, turning away from him.

"Awh, come on," His smug grin grew bigger and he opened his arms to me. Even though I hated him, he did get me a gift when he didn't have to, so I figured I could at least pretend to like him for half a second. I inched forward, the discomfort clear on my face, and I lifted my arms lightly. He wrapped his arms around me full on, just because he knew it would annoy me to no ends. However, I looked like someone who was being forced to hug the swamp creature. Believe me, it felt that way too. I could have caught a disease, _jerk_itis.

"Okay, gross, let go," I caved, shoving him off me. He still had that look on his face, the one that said, 'oh yeah, who wins _now?_'. I just turned away from him, shuddering. Shane laughed at my completely disgusted expression. I glared and he shut up.

"So what are you doing over here? Shouldn't you two be partying?" I laughed, looking down and smoothing out my dress, hoping the punch would go unnoticed.

"Mmm, not exactly," Jason laughed, holding up a video camera that I hadn't noticed before. He shook it for emphasis, "We're busy videotaping the best birthday party ever, so you can remember how awesome it was forever."

"Guys," I fake pouted, laughing, "You should dance! Go dance!" I grabbed the camera off Jason and shoved the two of them off towards the dance floor. They resisted at first, but when they caught sight of some of the guests that Miley had invited, had no problem in leaving me at the table with their camera.

"Hmm, so let's see what they've gotten so far," I mumbled to myself, opening the screen on the side of the digital video camera. That is, until it was yanked from my hands.

"Nu uh," Nate was responsible. He held the camera away from me, playing around with it. I ignored it until I saw the little red light go on. The jerk was _filming_ me. "So Lola, what's it like to be eighteen?" He asked.

"A lot better than being Nate Gray," I smirked, putting my hand up to the lens so he couldn't film anymore.

"Jeeze, I _try_ to be nice." He mumbled. He backed off, turning the camera away from me and towards the crowds of dancing people. We stood there in silence, me annoyed and him busy filming. I furrowed my eyebrows, watching a few people run from the dance floor. Soon the room was in a panic and I couldn't place my finger on why. I turned to Nate and we both shared a confused look, the only look we'd shared that night that hadn't relayed the message that we pretty much hated each other.

"Lola! Lola!" Miley ran up to me, frantic, "We've gotta go, come on!"

"Hannah, calm down," My eyes were wide. She was almost in tears, "What's wrong?"

"We've gotta go! Where's Mike?" She yelled. My eyes darted around the room and then I finally realized what was happening. People were screaming and running for exits.

"I-I don't know," Was all I could get out as I watched the scene around me. Whatever was happening didn't feel like it was really going on. It felt like I was in a movie theater watching something scripted play out in front of me.

"Shit," She cried, "Nate! Nate!" He turned to her, his eyes frightened, "Watch Lola, okay?!" He nodded frantically as Miley took off again.

"What's going on?" I turned to him, calm, but so confused. I didn't see the reason for all the panic.

"We're leaving," He told me quickly, grabbing my hand. I pulled away from him quickly, wiping it on my dress. "Gross," I muttered.

"Lola! Seriously!" He yelled, instead of taking the chance on my hand he forcefully held my wrist, dragging me along. I tried to hold my place, looking over my shoulder at the almost empty dance floor. My body froze when I caught sight of the event that caused the room to clear. Near the other end of the hall there was a large pool of blood and a young guys body laying limply there.

"Oh my god," The words slipped out of my mouth. I was motionless until I felt Nate tug me again.

"Come on!" He yelled and then we ran. I was running as fast as I could in my attire, too scared to think or cry. Nate's hold on me pulled me through the chaotic crowds as people ran in every which direction. I didn't even think about the fact that I was probably catching Jerkitis from the contact of his hand on my wrist, I only ran. We kept going until Nate pulled us out of the hysteria and down an empty alley way. I figured that if we could get out on the other side we would escape the media and being trampled by the other people trying to do the same.

So it came as a shock when my body slammed into Nate's back. Without a second to spare, the hand that had been on my wrist was slapped over my mouth. My eyes darted across the alley were I caught sight of a tall man dressed entirely in black. In his left hand a gun was clearly visible. My eyes widened and I started to breath heavily, my chest rising and falling as I panicked.

"Don't. Say. Anything," Nate whispered forcefully into my ear, holding me tight against him as he pressed himself into the wall. I wanted to scream and I wanted to cry, but all I could do was try to calm myself so I wouldn't give us away.

"Okay?" He asked, and I nodded quickly. Slowly, he lifted his hand from it's place on my mouth. I tried my hardest to stay silent, but as I opened my mouth to let out a fearful breath, it came out much louder than I intended. Nate tensed behind me, waiting for a reaction from the man in black in front of us. The waiting was torture. It was like watching a movie, sitting on the edge of your seat right before the scene with the killer. Except this was real, and this didn't have a rewind button.

Nate jump started my thoughts when he shoved me, indicating I should run back the way we came. When everything came back into motion, I saw that the guy had turned around and seen us. I hadn't moved, so Nate just took the opportunity to pull me along. As soon as we started running, the man chased after us, knowing that we were witnesses. As far as I knew, if you had just committed a serious crime, witnesses were bad and right now, we were loose ends that needed to be tied up.

I tried to run, but I found myself unable to. I was basically being dragged along by Nate, tripping over my own feet and slowing us down. When he let go of my hand it was a shock to me. I hadn't really been moving on my own, so naturally I stumbled, falling. When he heard the trip he turned, seeing me on the ground, and the man in black slowly advancing.

I was frozen with fear, unable to move. I could only think of the fact that I was going to die. I hadn't even made it to eighteen, one night away. God, if only I had stayed home and done that stupid essay. I never should have let Miley convince me into coming.

"Lola!" I felt a tug at my upper arm, pulling me up. My eyes darted around, and my hands shook as I tried to get my shoes off. I would never be able to run fast enough in them. When I managed to shakily slide them off it felt as if I had wasted minutes of valuable time, when in reality it had only been mere seconds. But seconds meant everything when you were in such a position. As soon as my shoes left my feet, I let Nate haul me up, and we ran again. I didn't dare look back, afraid of tripping again. I knew another slip up could cost me much more than a pair of shoes.

Shots fired and my eyes closed tight, but I didn't stop. Soon I felt bodies all around me, the scene became alive and I could hear voices in my ears. We had reentered the crowd, swerving and turning trying to get as lost in it as possible. When we stopped, I let my eyes open. As soon as they did, my tears ran free, and I started sobbing. Wrapping my arms around myself I pulled away from Nate. Everything was blurry and hectic, but the only thing I could focus on was a tiny red light. A tiny red light that shone from the digital video camera in Nate Gray's hands. Not only were we witnesses, but we had incriminating evidence now. _Fuck._

**A/N: Alright, now everyone's favourite thing: Question time. Would you like the POV to switch between Nate and Lilly, like how it was done in These Words?**

**Ps: A link to Lilly's Black dress will be on my profile.**

**Review Please!**


	2. Chapter 2: Nate

**A/N: Thank you so much to the reviewers. You guys just blow me away, honestly. Extra thanks to _peaceloveejonas _for her super long, super awesome review. You rock. Ps. Mike/Oliver _didn't _die. Anyways, I stayed up until five thirty in the morning writing it for you guys, so enjoy the chapter :)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

Anyone But You

Chapter Two

My eyes were scanning every inch of the crowd. I was searching for any sign of a curly head of hair like my own or some anime-type hairstyle. Basically, I was looking for anything that resembled the head of my two brothers. They couldn't have gotten that far, and I knew they wouldn't have just left me behind, so they had to be here somewhere. Though, it was getting increasingly difficult to find anyone in this mess, with the flashes going off and the sound of sirens in the air. People were going crazy just trying to get as far away from the crime as possible.

When I couldn't seem to find either Jason or Shane I began to panic, even more so than I already was. I was pretty much alone, except for Lola, who hated every bone in my body. We were standing still in the crowd, people moving all around us. That's when I realized I couldn't feel my hand in hers anymore and I looked around frantically. I had promised Hannah I would watch out for her, take care of her, and she had run off without me knowing.

I whipped my head around, spotting Lola's long, vibrant red hair just a few steps away. She hadn't really run off, we'd just gotten shoved a few feet apart in the chaos. I managed to push my way back to her against the current, standing next to her. I didn't try to hold on to her or keep her close to me, she probably knew that she should stay close if she didn't want to get lost. She didn't seem to be moving to go anywhere, so I continued to focus on finding my brothers.

Thats when I heard her. Even through the deafening noise of the mob, I could hear the fear in Lola's breathing. I stopped my search, turning to look her over. I hadn't spared her more than a glance before, but I could see it now. Her arms were wrapped around herself and her eyes were downcast, just staring at something so intently. Her body was rigid, but shaking and her lips were moving, muttering something, but no sound came out. She looked absolutely terrified.

"Lola?" I tried to say. My voice was drowned out by the screams and panic of those around us. My arm reached up to shake her shoulder, but she didn't move. Her eyes stayed focused on that one spot, and she only gripped herself tighter. Everyone was moving around us, shoving us occasionally, because we were stationary, but my eyes were trained on her. She wasn't moving, and she wasn't responding to my shake.

"Lola, come on," I shook her harder, my forehead creasing. She remained almost frozen to the spot, completely blind to the situation around us. It was almost as if nothing was around her and she couldn't feel or hear or see.

"Nate!" I snapped my head up, looking for the voice. It was easy recognizable as Shane's because I had become so accustomed to hearing it. My eyes were quick, inspecting every inch of the crowd until I found him. He was running towards me, sliding roughly through the crowd with Jason trailing behind him. When he reached me, he slammed into me from the force of the mass of people. Jason was able to stop himself, but I ended up bumping Lola before I could find my balance.

"Nate, we have to go," Shane told me fiercely, the alarm clear in his voice. I don't think I had ever seen Shane as scared as he was in those few minutes. His hands were shaking, despite how tough he was trying to look. I could see his eyes darting around the crowd nervously, his breathing hard. He grabbed my upper arm, and turned to drag me away. I pulled out of his grasp forcefully and he turned, his pleading eyes meeting mine.

"I can't just leave Lola," I explained, looking over my shoulder to make sure the red head was still standing there. She was, her form still numb and immobile. Her body hadn't moved more than a few centimeters since we had reentered the crowd. She just wouldn't move, her eyes still staring with the faraway look in them.

"She'll come with us," He answered quickly, turning around again and starting to steer his way out of the crowd. He was panicked, wanting to get to safety as soon as possible.

"Shane!" I called, and he turned, his eyes boring into mine as if to ask why I was holding us up.

"She-" I looked back again at her, "She won't move." Shane came back a few feet towards us, looking at Lola. His eyes shifted around at the scene and he seemed to come to a conclusion. He looked her over again, and shook her arm. Like when I'd done it, she had no response. In a quick and spontaneous motion, he hauled her onto his back, slouching a little at the added weight. Straightening up, he wrapped his arms around her legs, giving her somewhat of a piggy back ride. Nodding at me, we then urgently made our way through the madness. Pushing and shoving, and Shane trying to keep Lola balanced on his back, we finally found an out. I was cautious as we went through a side street, remembering the last short cut I had tried to take. When we emerged on another main street, I was put at ease.

Shane slid Lola off his back and onto a bench next to a bus stop. She wasn't unconscious or asleep, she was just wasn't capable of moving on her own. I found myself sitting next to her, my head falling into my hands and my fingers digging into my curls. My breathing was rigid as the memory of moments before came rushing back. In the crowd, I'd been so concerned with finding my brothers and the chaos had distracted me. Now, as we waited on a quiet street corner, I finally became aware of the extreme danger we had been in. We had almost been as good as dead. That was a thought that just blew me away, the idea that everything could have just ended there.

I could vaguely make out Jason calling someone to pick us up on his cell phone. Out of the four of us, he was the most put together, but that was to be expected since he was the oldest and had to stay strong for us. Shane didn't sit, he only paced, but Shane came to sit on the other side of Lola. I pulled my head from my hands when I felt Lola's head drop onto my shoulder. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, her body still shaking. Me and Jason both shared a look, myself just wondering if she was going to be okay.

"I think she's in shock," Jason's eyebrows creased as he made his diagnosis. He watched her both curiously and fearful at the same time. Neither of us had seen someone so rigid and unresponsive in our lives. Even if we didn't get along, she was scaring me, my fear deepening with each moment that passed without her reacting to the world. She looked as if everything had just dropped away from her, as if her entire world was gone and she could do nothing. It was like Lola wasn't even there at all.

"Will she be okay?" I asked. Jason didn't answer me and I almost panicked. He just tilted her head slowly off my shoulder until she sat straight. He looked her over like a doctor checks their patient, his eyebrows furrowed the entire time. I could easily tell he was worried.

"Yeah," He mumbled. I wasn't sure if he was being serious or if he was just trying to put me at ease. Either way, it wasn't working well. There was still the bubbling of terror in my stomach and the clench in my chest. It was getting difficult to breath and I desperately tried to swallow the growing lump in my throat. Thankfully I didn't have much more time to consider anything more because a car pulled up next to us. Our mom jumped out of the passenger seat, running to us and engulfing Shane into a hug. When Jason stood, she wrapped her arms around him too, frantically telling us she was so glad we were okay.

I moved from my position on the bench and my mom made her way towards me. I hugged her shortly before pulling away, glancing down at Lola. My mom noticed and her eyes went the same track mine did. When she looked back at me she was concerned. I ignored the questioning look and bent down to grab Lola off the bench. The only thing that stopped me was the digital video camera that I still held firmly in my hand. I hadn't noticed it before then, but I didn't take it for much either. Seeing that it was still on, I quickly shut it off, passing it to Jason before lifting Lola to her feet. When it became obvious that she still wouldn't move, I looked to Shane. I could have carried her myself, but whether or not I would admit it in such a serious moment, I still held resentment for her. When Shane pulled her into his arms bridal style, my mom must have realized she was coming with us. Mom opened the back door quickly and we all loaded into the car, Shane in the back seat watching Lola for any signs of movement.

Both me and Jason were speaking silently to each other. Shane's vision was solely on Lola. He had her sitting on his lap, her head leaned stiffly on his chest. Her eyes were wide and her body shook in his hold. One of his hands was tangled into her hair, and his head was tilted, trying to catch her gaze. I was watching them intently, turned in my seat. Shane looked up from her, joining the silent conversation. The three of us were all worried about her.

I knew Jason was the most afraid. He and Lola had been pretty close friends for around two years now. Shane and her weren't the closest, but he genuinely cared about her. He considered her a friend, but they weren't nearly as close as her and Jason. Me and Lola, we were an entirely different story. We had met at Hannah's sweet sixteen birthday party after Jason had introduced us to her. Initially, we were indifferent to each other. There wasn't an instant friendship, but we didn't dislike each other back then the way we did now. I'm not really an open person, not like Jason or Shane, so since we hadn't known each other well, I'd stayed a lot closer to Hannah the whole night. Besides, maybe I did have a teeny bit of a crush on Hannah at the time, but it wasn't like I was attached to her hip the entire party. Lola, who completely blows things out of proportion, had some sort of instant thought that just because I wasn't joking around with her like my two brothers, that I hated her. Since then she pretty much ignored me and did anything possible to show her hatred. Somewhere along the line I stopped tolerating it and the feeling gradually became mutual. But still, I at least _tried_ to be nice when we had to be together, and even if I practically loathed the girl, I wasn't a bad guy, I was still worried about her.

It was quiet when we pulled up to the house. Jason had his own apartment now since he was turning twenty four this year, but I didn't think he was ready to go to an empty apartment after tonight. I got out of the car and Jason slid out after me. Shane passed the still frozen Lola off to Jason so he could get out also. All three of us were still shaken up over the night's events, but Lola was much more of a concern at the moment. The three of us were fine, safe, but I wasn't so sure about her. She had hardly moved and her body, although it had stopped shaking as violently before, was still trembling.

Shane offered to piggy back her into the house when he saw Jason supporting her. He was probably the strongest out of us so neither me or Jason opposed, especially not me. I may be worried about her, but that didn't mean I had to act like I liked her. When we got into the house, our parents insisted we go get some rest and that we'd all talk in the morning. My mom hugged us all again tightly, well, she hugged Shane a little looser because of the extra body on his back. The three of us told our parents goodnight and that we loved them before making our way up the stairs, trying not to wake Frankie. Shane was the first one upstairs, and he decided to bring Lola to the first empty room he found. Of course, that room just _had_ to be mine. If Lola was in my bed, where was I supposed to sleep? I didn't see how it was fair that I'd be confined to the couch.

"Nate," Kevin whisper yelled to me. He was standing next to my bed, where Shane had just placed Lola. Instead of my eyes snapping to Jason's voice, they trailed over to Lola. The first thing I noticed was that her eyes were no longer wide and frightened, instead they were closed. My eyebrows furrowed and I responded to Jason, not daring to look away.

"Is she okay? Her eyes... they're closed now."

"She'll be fine," He assured, his gaze also settling on the limp body laying on my bed, "She's asleep. She'll be better in the morning."

"Oh," I responded lamely. I tore my eyes from Lola and turned to Jason. He was still looking at her, his face held a deep frown, clearly showing how worried he was.

"Hey Nate," Shane's voice entered my thoughts, "Go get one of your shirts for her, she can't sleep in her dress, especially after you tipped punch all over it."

"Firstly," I turned to him sharply, annoyed, "The punch was an _accident_, she did this on purpose," I gestured to the shirt I was still wearing that had a large red stain right down the middle of my chest, "And secondly, Gross. You expect me to change her? No way."

"Grow up, Nate," Jason spat, crossing his arms over his chest. Obviously he didn't accept my obvious distaste for Lola.

"Tell _her_ that," I fired back, "She's the one thats supposed to be an adult. I still have another three months."

"Seriously Nate," Jason's eyes narrowed at me. They darted over to Lola, softening when he looked at his friend, "Look at her," I did, "Can't you act reasonable for just _one_ night. I know you guys are arch enemies or whatever, but take the high road, okay? Just for tonight. In the morning you can go back to annoying the hell out of each other."

"Fine," I caved, sighing theatrically, "But I'm still not touching her. One of you can put the shirt on."

"I'll do it," Jason volunteered. I figured that would be for the best anyways since Jasonn and her were closest. I mean, really, didn't my brothers know that she'd personally murder me if she knew I'd seen her in anything less than her current attire? I'd been close enough to dying tonight, I didn't want to face it from her in the morning too.

I stood there, arms crossed, as Shane riffled through my closet for a shirt big enough for Lola. Not that I was a super skinny kid and none of my regular shirts would fit her, it's just that he needed to find something that would cover her more than a normal fitting shirt would. He pulled something off a hanger and tossed it over to Jason. My eyes visibly widened when I saw what Shane had picked out.

"Oh, No way!" I whisper yelled, trying not to wake Lola, "That's my Elvis Costello shirt! She can't wear that! It's my favourite!" Jason, however, shot me this look of utmost hatred and I instantly shut up. I knew he didn't really hate me, more how I was acting. But come on, it was my _Elvis Costello_ shirt. My _only_ Elvis Costello shirt, and now I'd never be able to wear it again. Not only does she take my bed, which will have to be cleaned and sterilized in the morning, but she gets my shirt too?! Too far, definitely too far.

I basically stood in the centre of my room, annoyed to hell, until Shane nudged me. It amazes me how she can not only get on my last nerve when she's conscious, but she also has a way of doing it while she's asleep. I mean, _really_,thats how much she hated me. But to be honest, I wouldn't say I hated her back, just... a very very strong dislike. The biggest dislike that comes before hate. Yeah, that summed it up nicely.

Shane nudged me again, pushing me until we were outside my room. Oh, so she can kick me out of my own room too, and she doesn't even have to be awake to do it. Pure _talent_. When I was kindly allowed back into my room moments later, Lola was snugly tucked into my bed, and my shirt was basically _dying_ on her, screaming at me to save it. Believe me, I wanted to, but I wasn't willing to go that far. Everything else in the room was exactly the same, except Jason had set down my camera on my desk top. He looked slightly uncomfortable too, but that was expected. That kind of comes naturally when you see one of your best friends in a less than decent state, even if you were just putting a pair of pajamas on them.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" I asked, looking around. We didn't have a guest bedroom, and I was hoping neither of them would suggest the couch. It was really uncomfortable. I was kind of hoping one of them would offer me their bed, but that was extremely unlikely.

"In here," Jason told me. Well, if I was expecting anything at all, it definitely wasn't that.

"What?!" Was my natural response.

"_Someone_ has to watch her," He said, stressing the someone and looking at me pointedly. Man, I was in for a long night. I reluctantly agreed to sleep in the same room as the bane of my existence, and settled into the only other slightly comfortable surface; the green chair that was in the corner of my room facing towards the bed. Luckily, I had the odd ability to fall asleep in any position, anywhere, so after a few hours of being awake I dozed off. I hadn't slept at first, still terrified of what had happened only hours ago, but a person can only stay awake for so long. It seemed that a person could only stay asleep for so long as well, because I woke up what felt like ten minutes later to Lola screaming.

My eyes had shot open immediately at the high pitched noise. She was sitting up stock straight in my bed, eyes wide and breathing deeply. For a second I had forgotten the fact that she could be pure evil and rushed from my chair to the bed. She wasn't frozen anymore because she turned instantly to me. As soon as I had reached her side, her arms had wound around my neck, pulling me to her. Awkwardly, I had smoothed down her hair, almost as if I was afraid to touch even a hair on her head. I was scared she would pull away from me and yell and complain that I had infected her with her fictitious disease, jerkitis, that apparently I had. She did nothing of the sort though. It was like she had completely forgotten who I was and every memory of our two year rivalry was gone. All she did was cry into my bare shoulder. I'd gotten changed earlier out of the stained shirt and skinnies and into a pair of sweat pants so I'd be more comfortable. It wasn't helping now, however, because this was the most uncomfortable situation I had ever been in. What do you do when your nemesis suddenly becomes so...vulnerable?

I didn't move from our position and neither did she. She held tightly to me, just sobbing and whispering incoherent words and phrases about a man in black. I could only hold her awkwardly and try to reassure her, telling her that everything was okay and that she had just had a nightmare. She kept shaking her head though, insisting that it was real and that she hadn't imagined it. She _had_ had a nightmare, but I didn't have the heart to tell her that it had actually happened too. I didn't have the heart to tell her that she was reliving the events of what should have been a fun eighteenth birthday surprise party. Well, it was definitely a surprise, just not in the way Hannah had meant it to be.

Finally, twenty or so minutes later, Lola's grip on me noticeably loosened and her sobbing slowed and eventually stopped. Her breathing became even and she fell back asleep. Carefully, I had pried her arms off me and leaned her back into my bed, pulling the covers up over her and tucking her tiny body in. The fear was so clear in her features and when I looked at her I almost felt bad for disliking her as much as I did.

I didn't sleep after that. I was worried that Lola would wake me up with another nightmare, and I was half scared I would have one myself. For the first while I didn't do much except sit in the green chair and watch Lola sleep. I couldn't help but think that maybe, just _maybe_, if her features hadn't been so scared she might have actually looked okay, just _okay_, in my Elvis Costello shirt. But still, it looked so much better on me. That was undeniable. When I finally realized that morning wasn't going to come any sooner if I just sat in a chair and did nothing, I began to look for something to occupy myself. The only thing I could really find that would keep me busy and my mind off of the memories was my computer. I didn't know if the bright light from the screen would wake Lola up, but I sincerely hoped it didn't.

Another hour passed as I surfed random sites and played some online games. Eventually the internet stopped being interesting and was no longer contributing to keeping me busy. That was when my eyes veered just a little left of the keyboard. The digital video camera was sitting where Jason had placed it. My head tilted, my eyes watching it for a moment, examining the object. After a minute or two, I picked it up. I snatched the memory card out of the side of it and put it into the computer, loading the videos to my files. Opening the folders I had saved the videos to, the mouse hovered over the files, tempting me to click them. The temptation didn't take long to convince me, because before I knew what I was doing, my video player was up and the scenes were playing.

The first thing I saw was Hannah. She did somewhat of an introduction of "Lola's Party" and explained to Lola, who we had planned to show the video to later, that she hoped it was the best eighteenth birthday ever. The camera then kept changing, showing different faces of people at the party all wishing her a happy birthday and saying special messages. Some of them I knew, but a lot of them I had never seen before in my life. After the birthday messages, there was some footage of the red carpet, and then when Lola had arrived. A couple of shots of the party in action came next, but then I was caught off guard.

The camera was shaky and I was the one on screen. Shane or Jason had apparently been filming me from afar. As I watched, the camera zoomed out a little and I realized that that had been when I was making my way towards to snack table. I couldn't help but chuckle a little at the audio on the video that came with the scene.

"Boom! Crash!" Shane was the one making bombing noises, "Jason, look! War is about to be declared!" He said seriously, seeing that I was walking up to Lola. The camera rustled a little and you could see Shane's feet for a split second before it turned off. I guess this is when they'd ran up to Lola, probably to stop us from bickering at each other.

The screen was black for a few seconds until the next shot came up. It was Lola. I had been the one filming this, _trying_ to be considerate on her birthday. I had asked her nicely what it was like to finally be eighteen, and of course she had given me a snooty response back, as well as insulting me. Sitting at the computer, I had had a semi smile on my face as I watched the video, right up until I heard Hannah's panicked voice. The smile instantly slipped off my face and my stomach dropped. The fear was back.

The events played out on the screen, and for the most part it was all screaming, me yelling at Lola, and the shoes of everyone in panic. My breathing became rigid, my mind telling me over and over to stop the video, but yet my eyes were still trained on the screen. I watched the ground change, and then I recognized the alley way. So far, the video hadn't had any real footage of the events of last night, but that suddenly changed. In the alley, when I'd spotted the man in black, I had stopped immediately. My one hand had clasped over Lola's mouth, trying to keep her quiet, and at the time I hadn't realized I was doing it, but my other arm had wrapped around her, pressing her to me tightly. I guess my natural instincts had kicked in and I had actually been trying to protect her. Unfortunately, this action had given the still filming camera a near perfect view of the alley and of what we had been seeing at that exact moment. When Lola had breathed out and the man had turned, I'd unknowingly captured his face on film.

My motionless body snapped into action when I heard my door creak open. In no time at all, I paused the movie and minimized the program. Turning towards my door, I could see it cracked open, Shane inching into my room.

"Hey..." He whispered. I nodded at him and he opened the door wider coming in, "I couldn't sleep."

"Me neither," I admitted, my eyes shifting to Lola momentarily to make sure she was still alright. The girl laid sound asleep in both my bed and my shirt, seemingly unplagued by the nightmare she had had earlier that night.

Shane shut the door behind him and tiptoed across the room towards me. He found a seat on the floor next to my desk, leaning up against the wall. He stayed silent for a couple minutes, his hands in his lap as he sat cross-legged.

"You okay?" I whispered, looking at him.

"I don't know," He sighed. I shot him a confused look and he continued, "Just, what happened back there? I mean, that's- that's not supposed to happen." When he looked up at me I could see the anxiety flicker through his eyes. It was so unlike Shane to really be afraid of something; his nickname was Danger after all. I had grown up thinking he had been pretty much fearless.

"What if it had been one of us?" He asked, his eyes dropping down to the hard wood floor. When I caught sight of how truly terrified he was at the thought of any of us being the victim of this crime, I decided then and there that I wouldn't tell him about my run in with the criminal. I wasn't going to scare him any more than he already was.

"Don't think about that," I told him, "We're all going to be okay- No, we all _are_ okay." And as I said this, my eyes darted down the the minimized program. I let my eyes linger on the evidence just a little longer, just wondering how true my statement was, and if it would really stay this way. Having evidence had the ability to both keep me alive and sign my death certificate, I just didn't know yet which one it was going to be.

**A/N: Today's question: You've seen Nate's thoughts on what happened, what do you think Lilly's first reaction will be when she wakes up in the morning?**

**Review please :)**


	3. Chapter 3: Lilly

**A/N: Hey guys, thank you so much for the amazing reviews! I feel so repetitive telling you guys over and over how awesome you are, but you really are that awesome. I can't thank you enough. Anyways, on with the chapter! Enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

Anyone But You

Chapter Three

The first thing that I could remember was smelling the strong scent of coffee. It occurred to me after a second that I had just woken up, but I didn't feel nearly ready to get out of bed. I was half wondering what my mom was doing still here, she was usually off at work by the time I woke up on Saturday mornings. Then it hit me like a bag of bricks. It was my birthday today, so it was likely that my mom had stayed home to make me some sort of breakfast in bed type deal. Hopefully she made bacon and eggs, or even better, chocolate chip pancakes. I almost drooled just thinking about it.

I snuggled further into my bed, pulling my blankets closer to me, not wanting to get up quite yet. It was my birthday, I was entitled to sleeping in a little later than usual. I breathed in the smell of my pillow, which smelt a lot better than usual. I should really tell my mom I loved whatever fabric softener or whatever she was using to make my pillow cases smell so awesome. I sighed, my eyes still closed as I relaxed in the bed. It was so damn comfortable that I couldn't help but want to stay there until three in the afternoon.

I heard my door creak open and the soft footsteps echo through my room. Mom was either coming to collect the laundry, or to wake me up with my breakfast. I yawned silently, breathing in deeply and taking in my last few seconds in bed. When I cracked my eyes open, I was definitely confused at what I saw. The room I was in looked nothing like my own, in fact, it was one I didn't even recognize. I could remember waking up at Miley's a few times and forgetting that I had slept over, but this room wasn't Miley's either.

I gazed curiously around the room, still not moving from my position on the bed. My eyes trailed over the bright orange walls to the guitars lining them. There was a desk in the corner and a green chair that seemed entirely out of place in the corner. Hold up- If it wasn't my mom who had come into the room, who the heck was it? Actually, where did they go? Because they certainly weren't in the room now. And then the door to the walk in closet opened and I got my answer. My horrible, terrible answer.

He was standing there in just a pair of sweat pants, his arms raised above his head as he yawned. I watched, wide eyed as the shirtless boy tossed a pair of pants onto the chair at his desk, along with a plain white t-shirt. My eyes were focused on him as he leaned over the computer, blocking the screen from my view and checking something. Seconds later he popped a CD out of the drive and placed it onto a stack of about six or seven others. When he turned back around, he didn't notice that I was awake. I, however, did notice how absolutely grotesque it was so see him without clothes on. Nasty. Which brings me to- Why didn't he have a shirt on? Actually, why was I in _his_ room at all? And then it hit me and I screamed, sitting up in bed. Oh, god, please no.

When he heard me scream, he stumbled a bit. It was obvious he hadn't been expecting me to emit such a noise since he thought I had been sleeping. When he got over his shock, he turned to me, eyes wide and with something like worry in them. Before I knew it, he had run to my bedside, sliding onto it next to me. His nasty, lanky, arms wound around me quickly and I was stunned by the action for a moment.

"Ew!" Was the first thing I yelled, shoving him off me violently. He tumbled off the bed, landing on the floor confused. "Don't touch me!" I continued, wiping his germs from wherever his arms had made contact. Unfortunately, as I looked down at my attire, which consisted of an Elvis Costello shirt and nothing more, I realized that me waking up in his bed wearing his shirt meant that he had probably touched a lot more than he had just now. I could have vomited right then and there.

"What the hell?!" He yelled back, narrowing his eyes at me from the floor, "Don't touch _you_?! I could hardly pry your hands of _me_ last night!"

If anything, this only confirmed my suspicions. What the _hell_ had been in that goddamn punch last night? It must've been pretty strong because I couldn't even remember drinking it at all. But that was hardly my biggest concern right now. I felt like my entire insides were about to melt, thats just how disgusted I was. The idea that his hands had been trailing my body made me gag. Not just gag, but empty whatever was left in my stomach for that matter. I felt like a _disease_. My face screwed up, preparing for the nausea, and my shoulders tightened.

"Oh my god, ew," Was all I could say, my eyes widening, "Get me a barf bag."

"Grow up Lola," He rolled his eyes, standing up from his place on the floor, "You were the one that wanted me. And to think, I actually let you wear my favourite shirt." He snapped. He was watching me with his arms crossed over his bare chest, annoyance clear in his features.

"I don't even know who Elvis Costello is!" I complained, "Why would I _care_?!"

"Maybe because you wouldn't have had anything else to wear?!" He fired back. The two of us were pretty much full on yelling at each other. If we were at his house, I was amazed that no one else had heard us.

"Oh my _God_!" I yelled, absolutely horrified. I'd been toying with the idea in my brain, but then my eyes landed on the black dress on the floor of his room. The black dress that I'd been wearing last night. It became pretty clear to me then that I didn't really matter if I hadn't had anything else to wear because he had probably seen everything this shirt was covering by now anyways.

"Will you _stop_ yelling, please?!" He yelled, clamping his hands over his ears. How ironic. Stupid jerk should take his own advice before he decides to give me any.

"I can't believe this happened," I whispered to myself, my whole body slumping. My mind fully wrapped around the idea and I stopped to think about anything else besides that it had unfortunately been _him_. I wasn't one for the whole waiting until marriage, but I had honestly wanted to wait until I found someone I had really, truly, loved, and Nate Gray wasn't that. The feelings I had for Nate Gray were the furthest things from love. I disliked him to the extent that when he spoke he made me want to go deaf just so I wouldn't have to listen.

"It's, uh," I looked up to his voice. He was standing there, rubbing his neck awkwardly, "It'll be okay." I kind of felt bad for him. At least I didn't have to remember the experience for the rest of my life, even if I knew it had happened. He, however, had to have that plaguing his mind forever. I think if I had had to, I would have banged my head against the wall until I got permanent brain damage just to get it out.

"How is this going to be okay?!" I freaked. I may not have been ready at eighteen, but he wore a freaking _purity ring_. How could he say it was going to be _okay_?! The press was going to have a flipping field day with this one. God, Lola was going to be all over the news. Worst of all, he didn't even know that Lola didn't even exist. Actually, maybe Lola could just suddenly disappear and I wouldn't have to deal with it.

"Well, no one knows," He told me, coming to sit next to me on the bed. He left a fair amount of space between us, which was a good idea since I wasn't in a great mood. I mean, what am I supposed to say when I realize I've just _slept_ with my worst enemy. Oh god, what if I was pregnant?! Cue my eyes widening double their size.

"No one can know," I turned to him, pleading. I just hoped to God that the both of us could forget this and not have any consequences to deal with.

"You think I don't know that?" He scoffed, slouching over. His head instantly went into his hands and his fingers tangled into his curls. Oddly, I remembered seeing him do it before, but I couldn't place my finger on when.

"I-um," I mumbled, looking down, "I don't remember much. Was it- Was I-?" This was awkward enough. I couldn't really bitch and yell at him because it takes two to tango and this was as much my fault as his. The both of us had probably drank a cup too many of the damn punch. This never should have happened.

"I don't know, but," He sighed, his hands dug deeper into his curls as he pondered something. It was as if he was trying to figure out how to say something, or if he should say it at all. "I don't think I'll ever forget that look you had in your eyes. It just made me forget all about how we're supposed to hate each other."

"O-Oh," I stuttered out. I studied my hands as they played with each other in my lap. I wasn't sure what else I could really say. What do you say to that? I wasn't sure what he was even trying to tell me. Was he saying that all of a sudden he had feelings for me? Because it wasn't the slightest bit mutual if he was. I just couldn't believe this had really happened, especially with him.

"Nate?" I broke the silence. His hands came off his face and he turned to look at me. I could hardly remember a time when we had been this civil to each other, but this kind of situation pretty much demanded it. "What if I'm pregnant?"

When I said it, he immediately looked taken aback. It became apparent to me that he probably hadn't considered the possibility. His face screwed up, watching me as if I was insane and his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "What?" He asked, genuinely out of the loop.

"Your kidding me right?!" I yelled. How stupid was he? Did he not attend a sex ed class at least _once _in his life? When he continued to remain confused, I figured I'd be the mature one and clear it up for him. "You know, that's a possibility, since the two of us just had _sex_ with each-" I couldn't even finish my sentence before he interrupted.

"Oh, No, no, no, no, no!" He yelled, standing up from the bed and holding his hands out, "No, ew! Never! Gross! Mental image, ewwww," He whined, looking as if his face was about to go green.

"We didn't?!" I asked, completely relieved at his reaction.

"No! Gross!" He shuddered, "First, like I would ever break my vow for _you_." I had to admit, that stung just a little considering my past track record with guys. Years of getting stood up and cheated on, followed by a comment like that didn't sit too well with me. "Second, no! Just no! That's _wrong_ on so many levels."

"Wait a minute," I paused, thinking, "If that didn't happen, what the _hell_ am I doing here?"

"You honestly don't remember a thing?"

"If I did, would I have just asked you about me being _pregnant_?!" I screamed. What an _idiot_! He shot me an annoyed look and moved forward grabbing my arm. Against my will, he hauled me out of the bed and to my feet. Even if it was his bed, I had to admit, it was super comfortable and did smell really nice. He dragged me across the room and towards his computer. When he released my arm and started messing around with the machine, I stood there confused. What ever he was getting at, I didn't have a single clue.

"This," I snapped out of my thoughts, "Is what happened last night." A movie on his computer screen started playing and after only a few moments everything started flooding back to me. Not only did the memories refresh themselves in my mind, but the panic and fear were back in my heart. At my eighteenth birthday party there had been a _murder_, which was almost as bad as sleeping with Nate Gray. Now that last night's events were so vivid in my mind, I scolded myself for even considering the idea that anything had happened between me and Nate. Even if I had been drunk, Nate disliked me and was a respectable enough guy not to take advantage of a girl. I could admit that, even if I believed that he didn't have a good bone in his body. Even if he had been a sleaze, Jason and Shane would have never let it happen.

"Remember?" He asked. I tore my eyes away from the screen to nod at him, still a bit shocked. He stopped the video just as Hannah had run up to us.

"The camera," I furrowed my eye brows, "When we were in the crowd... it was still on."

"I know," He answered. He picked up the stack of CD's sitting on his desk and split them, handing me half, "These are copies," He explained, "I made twelve. Hide them, so that if we need them we know where to find them and no one _else_ does." The way he said 'else' made me immediately know what he was talking about. He didn't want the criminal to be able to destroy all our evidence, because then we'd be six feet under. If there was nothing to stop him from going free except our memories of the events, I had no doubt that he would have no problem in increasing his death count to three.

"What are you doing?" A voice cut through our conversation. Any amount of seriousness disappeared and we were both reminded of the extreme dislike of being in the vicinity of the other. I turned to the doorway and saw Shane's head peeking in, watching us curiously. I'm sure it probably looked a little odd to see Nate handing six blank CD's off to me.

"I burned Lola a mix CD," Nate automatically made up an excuse, "Uh-several," He added, glancing down at the pile of discs in my hand. "She has awful taste in music. I figured I should introduce her to something good."

"I have awful taste in music?!" I scoffed, "Oh please! You wouldn't know music if it walked up and hit you in the face and was like 'Hey Nate Gray, your an _idiot_'"

"Said the girl who doesn't know who Elvis Costello is," he retorted, "By the way, you don't even deserve to have the privilege of wearing his name. Take the shirt off." I'm sure he didn't realize what he was saying when he said it, but that was expected when he had the mental capacity of a four year old. I saw Shane raise an eyebrow and I mimicked him. Nate, who could have passed off as a lobotomy patient because of how unaware he was, didn't seem phased by what he'd said.

"Fine," I huffed, trying to prove a point. I wasn't actually willing to take the shirt off, but I'd known Nate for long enough to know he was predictable. The shirt, which naturally rested mid-thigh, hadn't gotten any higher than my hips before he realized his mistake and told me to keep it on before his eyes burned out. Yeah, serves him right thinking he knows anything about music at all. Please, he may have been a musician, but that didn't make him like.. official decider of.. good music... or whatever. Doesn't matter, he thinks he knows all just because he can play a guitar and cough out a few stale notes.

"Uh, mom wants you both downstairs," Shane coughed out awkwardly, "The party's on the news..." I spared Nate one last glare, walking away from him and towards where Shane was standing. I could have sworn I saw him take a glance at my bare legs, but when I looked back at him his eyes were on Nate, waiting for him to follow. Either way, if he was looking or not, I didn't really care. Me and Shane weren't interested in each other, we couldn't really even be considered friends. Besides, my legs were pretty dang hot. If I were a guy, I'd look at them. This is why you skateboard daily, folks.

When I got downstairs, Mr. And Mrs. Gray were sitting at the kitchen table with Jason. They were talking about something in a serious tone, but stopped when I entered the room. All attention was on me, and I could tell the Grays were uncomfortable with my attire, and probably really wondering why I was in Nate's shirt, but no one said anything. Awkwardly, I sat down at the table next to Jason and the two of us shared a smile. I'd been to his apartment before to hang out, but this was my first time at the house and at least someone was making it a little more bearable.

I tried to focus on anything but the people in the kitchen, trying to avoid the conversation. I was both still embarrassed over what had happened with Nate this morning, and terrified because of what had actually taken place last night. I had never really been in any kind of real danger before, and this was just about as real as it got. In a way, my mind was acting like the child I no longer was, telling me that if I avoided the conversation, I could avoid accepting it all together and then it couldn't hurt me. The mature side of me, however, realized that choosing to ignore it would only make me an easy target because I wouldn't be cautious and protected.

"I heard you and Nate fighting upstairs..." Jason sighed. I knew he didn't like the fact that one of his closest friends and his younger brother couldn't stand each other. It must've sucked to be in the middle, but Nate was just so annoying. However, at this moment, I wasn't thinking about the fight that had occurred upstairs or Nate's antics- I was just grateful that Jason wasn't going to make me talk about my party. I was half ready to break down again just thinking about it. This was supposed to have been the best birthday ever, it never should have turned out like this.

"I'm sorry Jase, I really am," I whispered to him, trying to keep the conversation private and between us and not everyone else that had seated themselves around the table. "He's just so- so urugh," I groaned. There were no words for the way Nate Gray frustrated me. He was just so..._Nate Gray_, that was the only right word I could come up with. Annoying and frustrating seemed far too much like understatements.

"Wow, what a vocabulary," Jason joked back, grinning. I was glad he wasn't going to get angry with me for not acting _nice_ to his brother. Me and Nate just didn't get along. I don't think it really mattered what the other did, it was more the idea that it was him doing it that severely pissed me off. It was just the way he was. He was so damn easy to hate. Everything he did just screamed reasons to not like him.

"Shut up, Jason," I warned, a smile playing on my lips as I nudged him a bit. I could easily say it was the first time I had smiled since I had been woken up from the state in which I still believed my mother was going to bring me breakfast in bed. Jason was just so easy to get a long with, so easy to befriend. It was odd how he could be a complete contrast the the devil whom he shared a family with.

And then Jason's parents coughed rather awkwardly, gathering all our attention. It became quiet in the room and the only thing that could be heard was the news. They were talking about last night, about the murder. Apparently very few people had seen anything at all and what they had seen was questionable. The second I could hear the news anchor saying that police wanted anyone knowing anything to come forward, my eyes automatically bored into the table's wood grains. Witnesses weren't obligated to come forward, right? And it couldn't be considered withholding evidence, could it? Me and Nate shared the tiniest of looks that lasted for no more than a milisecond, but I knew. We were both on the same page on this one topic. No one was going to know, unless absolutely necessary. We weren't going to go to the police and risk getting our names out there. Although Nate had yelled my name so many times that night in front of him, I wasn't really Lola, and there was a good chance that he hadn't caught a good look at our faces.

"Good morning... Lola, is it?" Mrs. Gray greeted me kindly. Despite being such good friends with Jason, I had only ever met her once or twice over the last two years.

"Yeah, Lola," I smiled and nodded, "Uh, Luftnagle."

"I'm glad to see your feeling better," She told me. It was easy to see that Jason was her son; she had the same likability to her that he did. "What an awful thing to have happen on your birthday."

"Actually," I coughed, "My birthday is.. um, today."

"Oh! Well then Happy birthday, sweetie," She smiled. I tried to mirror it, but I found I wasn't able to. How could I smile when I had just witnessed a flippin' murder. I was terrified for my own safety. I was half disappointed that I didn't feel nearly mature enough, or old enough to be dealing with this kind of situation. But this, this was something no one should have ever had to deal with, adult or not.

"Thank you," I mumbled, clearly out of place. I excused myself from the table, saying that I needed to use the washroom. They directed me upstairs and I swore I could have puked if there had been anything in my stomach. I still didn't have the slightest clue why this all had to happen to me. Why did the guy have to pick _my_ party, and why did Nate have to lead me down _that_ ally. Did I even know the guy who I had seen last night dead on the dance floor? There had been so many people at that party last night and I had recognized very few of them. Either I had known them well, or not at all. If the body had happened to be one of the few I was close to, I wasn't sure what I would do. It might just be too much for me to handle. Hell, this was already way too much for me to handle.

"Lola?" My head turned towards the door when I heard both my name and a gentle tap. "You alright?" Sniffling, I crawled a little closer to the bathroom door and reached out to unlock it. When the person on the other side hear the lock click open, they took it to mean that they could come in.

"No," I cried, curled up on the floor, "I think I'm gunna be sick, Jason." Being the good friend he is, he sat down next to me and wrapped me into a hug. I just cried, and he let me. He didn't tell me it was going to be okay, and he didn't try to make me laugh or smile. He was just there.

"I want to go home," I croaked, and he nodded. He helped me off the floor and down the stairs while I wiped my tears away. My breathing was still a little rigid as I waited by the front door while he retrieved my dress from Nate's room. He came down moments later with the black piece of clothing in one hand, and the six CD's in the other. He explained that he'd seen them sitting on the desk and remembered Nate trying to give them to me. I took them from him and he lead me out of the house towards his car. I thought for a moment how annoyed Nate was going to be when he found out that I'd pretty much stolen his favourite shirt, and I felt at ease for a moment. Anything that got my mind off the fact that I was a target was good, even if it was Nate.

A few minutes later Jason pulled up in front of my house. I was a bit hesitant to tell him where it was, but it wasn't like Jason was going to go looking up my address to make sure I lived there. He didn't really have a reason to believe that I wasn't Lola, anyways. He hugged me goodbye, and said he would call me later before I stepped out and made my way towards my house. I waved to him before he pulled away, and then took a deep breath.

"Lilly?!" Was the first thing I was greeted with when I opened the door. My mom had run to me and wrapped me up in her arms, "Lilly! Thank God!" I couldn't help but tear up.

"Lilly, what happened?" She asked. When she leaned back, she caught sight of Nate's baggy shirt on me, and the dress in my hand. Her eyes darted between the two, and then up to me, her forehead creasing and her eyes questioning.

"The Grays. They let me stay at their house." I mumbled. My mom pulled me back into a hug when she understood, "I don't know mom," my voice cracked, "It just happened, and I didn't see much, but everyone was running, and- and,"

"Shhh," My mom whispered, "It's okay. You go upstairs and get in bed. Maybe you should call Miley, she's been calling both here and your cell phone worried sick about you." I nodded, detaching myself from my mom and wiping my eyes.

"What do you need? I'll get you anything you want, honey, just say it. I can go buy more fudge-cicles," I shook my head lightly, but appreciated her offer. It seemed that the one thing I truly wanted was the one thing no one could give me: For me to wake up and have this all just be a terrible nightmare.

**A/N: No questions today, just review :) Also, as a side note, look out for a new story that I'm co-writing with _brookieebabbyy_, hopefully it'll be up sometime soon. It's _Loe_. Anyways, yeah, review! Tell me what you thought, what you'd like to see, what you'd like to see less of. Also, do you think the chapters are a bit long and dragged out?**


	4. Chapter 4: Nate

**A/N: Thank you so so so much for the reviews! You guys are so awesome. I especially loved those super long ones. Thank you for giving me a minute of your life to tell me what you liked about it. Anyways, on to the chapter! Enjoy. **

**Ps. I'm sorry if if doesn't sound like Nate and Lilly are getting any closer but I'm trying to make it really gradual. I didn't want one of those 'I hate her, but she has awesome eyes and hair and everything, and oh no! I think I like her' stories. And, Uh, I don't want to give away too much, but they'll be getting a lot closer soon enough. Take it whatever way you wish.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

Anyone But You

Chapter Four

For the entire day my mind had been elsewhere. I wasn't able on concentrate on much because I knew that at any second anything could happen. I had just witnessed a murder, and the only thing keeping me alive were six hidden discs. That wasn't much to rely on, and even I knew that. I was six discs away from dead, should the guy actually be able to find me. Then again, finding Nate Gray wasn't much of a task, considering crazy fans were at our house daily. How they managed to know where we lived when we worked so hard to keep it a secret was beyond me.

The day has started out especially awkwardly though. I hadn't slept more than those few ten minutes all night. I was worried about Lola, even if we disliked each other. The way she had looked last night made her seem so vulnerable, something I had never seen in her before. For those first few moments, when she'd hugged me so close, it had been like treading on enemy territory. But when I saw that she was just as afraid as I was, it kind of just, eased that thought away for the time being. It gave me a new view on her, made me look at her in an entirely different light, if only for a couple minutes. She wasn't Lola then, she was a person, and people needed other people, so I was there. And thats when I told myself, if she would stay open long enough and if she didn't push me away, I'd put our past behind me and try, just _try_, to be a friend to her, no matter how hard it was going to be.

That was when Shane had come in. Just like Lola, Shane didn't seem so much like Shane. He had an all new different side to him, one that had fears. For so long, it had seemed like the people around me had been so strong and had never been afraid of anything. But this, this showed that I couldn't have been more wrong, because everyone, even the strongest person, has a breaking point. And when I talked to Shane, this was his. Not so much the idea that someone had died that night, but more that it could have been someone else in their place. That's when I realized that Shane wasn't more afraid of anything than losing one of us. It touched me and made me think a little about how much he really cared about us all. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn't, so I didn't. But that wasn't the end because we had talked for so long that night. I think in that night, I really truly opened up for the first time in all my life to someone. Me and my brothers were close, yes, but I was typically the quiet one. I thought about all my words before I said them, but not that night. That night I let everything spill, wanting to get it all out in case Shane's fears weren't so much a fear anymore, but a reality.

"What about Lola?" Shane had asked. We were still talking just as the sun was starting to come up. I was in my computer chair and he was on the floor next to me. Less than two seconds ago we'd been talking about true meanings of words. What it meant to love someone, to trust someone, to _hate _someone.

"What about her?" I asked, my eyes darting over to her still figure. She hadn't screamed again, and for that I was thankful. At least she was sleeping pleasantly, unaware of the danger we were in.

"Do you hate her?" He asked, and my eyes shot back to him, "You guys fight all the time, and she's told me she hates you. I think you've said it a couple times too, but, do you really?" His eyebrows were furrowed as if he was the one who had to answer the question. He looked deep in thought, and I couldn't help but wonder why since he had just _asked_ something. I couldn't see why he was looking for an answer, shouldn't he have merely been waiting for one?

"I don't hate her, no," I sighed, my head coming down to rest on the desk, "She's just so damn difficult to deal with, y'know?"

"No, I can't say I do," He answered, "She's always so nice, and fun. I mean, I could list a million things I like about her."

"Great to know," I grumbled, listening to Shane go on and on. I, however, differed from Shane. I could list _more_ than a million reasons why I didn't like her. I mean, she was always so rude, and she didn't even _try_ to act civil anymore. She was just so down right open with her distaste for me. Hadn't she ever heard of being polite? Was the word respect not in her dictionary?

"And she's funny too," Shane droned on, "Remember that time she cut the curl out of your hair? You know, the one in front, and you looked so weird for like.. two months until it fully grew back in?"

"That wasn't funny, Shane," I glared. His laughter died down, but didn't fully stop. He had that far away look in his eyes like he was just imagining how I had looked when she'd first done it and was still chuckling.

"Good times," He reminisced, and I felt the need to cut him out of the memory.

"Oh yeah? And remember the time she stole your phone, went into your phone book and put my name under _her_ number, then sent you those texts and had you avoiding me all week? Not so funny now, is it?"

"Actually, I'm oddly okay with that," He shrugged, "It was mostly to embarrass you anyways. Sure, I was a little freaked out, but your face was priceless."

"Okay, enough with the Lola memories," I growled, realizing that in every single one she had done something to make it clear she didn't like that I was around.

"You just don't like it that she doesn't like you, and she admits it."

"She doesn't _admit_ it! She's just plain _mean_ about it." I settled my head in it's place on the desk top again. My eyes were heavy, begging me to let them close. But I wouldn't, I would stay awake all night.

"What's the deal with you two anyways?"

"Hmm?"

"Why does she hate you? Did you do something to piss her off, or?"

"I don't know," I answered, seriously considering it. Why did we hate each other anyways? I had always thought that she only hated me because the first night we'd met, I hadn't really taken a chance to get to know her. I hadn't met her before, and from what I'd heard from Hannah, she was nice, but we didn't get around to talking. But boy Hannah was wrong, if she was anything, she wasn't nice at all.

"It's just always been that way," I admitted, mulling over it, "She doesn't like me for whatever reason, and I don't like her... well, because she's Lola, and she hates me, therefore making my life miserable whenever she's around."

"That's stupid," Shane added in, watching the tiny rays of sunlight stream through my window.

"How can I not dislike her? She goes out of her way _just_ to annoy me."

"I don't know, man," Shane sighed, standing up, "But the two of you really need to figure out a way to put this behind you. Jason really doesn't like it that you fight. You know she's his best friend? That's a girl anyways,"

"I know," I breathed. I almost wanted to bang my head against the desk, but what good would that do?

"I'm going to go make coffee or whatever, before I die," He hadn't really noticed when he was saying it, but once it was in the air, he froze. "Uh, I mean, before I crash."

"Sure," I replied into the uneasy air. I listened to Shane creep across my room once again quietly, trying not to wake the sleeping figure in my bed. When he was gone, my head immediately came up, my eyes trailing over the program that had been minimized all night. God, what was I going to do with this evidence? I had to find a way to keep it safe, to make sure that I would always have it in case I should need it. Then it came to me that I needed copies. For a while, I had just sat there, making copy after copy of the tape. I'd decided I would make as many as I could, keeping them hidden from anyone who needed to find them. They might've needed to get rid of evidence, but I needed to keep myself safe. But not only would these discs be responsible for my safety, but that of the red headed fireball asleep in my room, too. And I had had the camera on, and I had so stupidly led us down that alley, so I felt morally obligated to make sure nothing happened to her, so that's what I was going to do.

After I had burned my own six copies and I was working on her fifth, I realized it was getting pretty late. I stood from the chair I hadn't left for hours, and walked to my closet, preparing to get ready for the day. All I really needed was a change of clothes and a shower, and then I'd be done. Naturally, I picked out plain skinnies and a white tshirt, not needing to be all fancy and famous today. It had taken less than a minute to pick out. I walked out of my walk-in closet and threw the clothes on to the computer chair. Leaning over, I checked to see if the contents of the film had burned onto the CD, and saw that they were. It took mere seconds to pop the copy out of the disc drive and place it on Lola's pile. But before I knew it, she was screaming again.

Stunned for just a moment, I regained compose. She had probably had another night mare again, and I was worried that she would revert back to that same frozen state. My feet guided me to her bedside, my arms wrapping themselves around her awkwardly again. I just tried to remind myself, this wasn't Lola anymore, this was a person, with actual feelings and hopefully a conscience. Except in moments that image was destroyed and I was on the ground being yelled at by her. It didn't make sense to me that she had wanted me so close to her last night, and yet here she was, shoving me away like absolutely nothing had happened. To say the least, yelling on both our parts ensued, as did an awkward conversation.

When she'd told me she thought she could be pregnant, I thought she was going to open up to me. I thought that maybe, just maybe, she had remembered how I had put our past aside last night in her moment of need, and that finally she was willing to forget it for good. Clearly, I was shocked when that wasn't the case. Actually no, not only was I shocked, I was extremely disgusted. She had thought that _we_ had... uh.. did it. I could have sworn I was both entirely red and green at the same time, as if Christmas had come six months early on my face. How she could have ever got an idea like that into her mind was beyond me. I had made a promise, and she _definitely_ wasn't a deal breaker. It was gross to even think of her in that way because we had been rivals for so long. There just wasn't even the slightest possibility I could ever be attracted to a ruthless, cold hearted- well- bitch. And if I was really being honest, that's all she was to me.

Thank God she had remembered though. We had manged to fall into a semi civil conversation as I handed the evidence off to her, telling her exactly what to do with it. However, it had all been interrupted by Shane. I know he didn't realize it, but I would have liked to at least managed to talk with Lola for more than two minutes without either of us insulting the other. But it seemed that things just didn't go my way, because before I knew it we were at each other's throats yet again.

I hadn't seen much of her after that. We'd all sat down at the kitchen table and my mom had wished her a happy birthday, trying to be as pleasant as one could with such a disastrous night hanging on our shoulders. The gloom was in the air, but we all tried to ignore it. Not much longer, Jason had taken her home, and after it was too late, I remembered that she had left with my shirt on. She had _stolen_ my favourite shirt. She didn't even know who Elvis Costello was, for god's sake. She shouldn't have worn the shirt, and now she practically _owned_ it. How did she _always_ manage to win?!

Sulking upstairs, I grabbed the clothes I'd put aside before Lola had woken up and went to take a shower. When I walked into the washroom, the first thing I noticed was the mirror, or rather, my reflection in it. My hair was disheveled and my eyes were tired. I looked just like I did every other morning, but there was something different this time. I couldn't place my finger on it, but something just didn't look right about me. Everything seemed the tinniest bit off, but I could easily contribute that to the lack of sleep, and the horrible memories.

Looking away from the mirror and stepping towards the shower, I soon found myself on the ground. I'd tripped, and when I looked to see what it was, I noticed a measuring tape abandoned in the middle of the floor. It seemed so out of place. Maybe Mom and Dad were working on doing renovations, or wanting to fix the tiling? That was the only explanation I could come up with as I stood back up and placed the object on the counter and took my shower.

The shower was relaxing to say the least. It was the whole cliché feeling where it washes away all your thoughts. But something different then the cliché was that the second I stepped out everything immediately came rushing back to me. I'd been lost in the water, but now I was back in reality- a reality I wasn't to fond of at the moment. I found myself trailing back to the counter top, watching myself in the mirror yet again, adding a few products to my hair. I got dressed, and then went to go make one last copy of the CD. By the time Lola had woken up, I had only made her five copies, so I'd nicely given her one of mine, so I was still in need of one last disc to complete my 'collection'.

After copying my last disc I wasn't sure what to do. I knew I had to hide them, but I was never the best at that. I was usually the first to be found as a kid, when me and Shane played Hide and Seek. I considered for a second, enlisting his help, but I didn't want him to be involved. I'd already put Lola in enough danger, I wasn't going to do that to my own family. My family meant far too much for me to get them mixed up in this. I couldn't even be certain what I was dealing with here. Was this some simple, impulse murder, or a high profile mobster type thing? I could be the prey to some twenty something first time criminal, or someone who had known the ropes for years. This was Malibu, and I didn't have a clue what to expect.

I grabbed the six discs off the desk in front of me, looking them over and over. I had set the cogs in my mind at work, and my thoughts were at full speed. I was trying to remember any place in my house, or anywhere else for that matter, that would be good enough. Somewhere that wouldn't be expected. I could keep one in the house, but I couldn't think of somewhere that it wouldn't be found. There were plenty of places I knew that _he_ wouldn't think to look, but those were places that my parents or brothers might get a hold of it, and that was something I wasn't going to do. I wouldn't risk their safety over mine.

Unconsciously, I began to shuffle the discs. It looked odd, but I still managed to do it somehow. I was thinking of places around town, places that normal civilians wouldn't think to look, or even stumble upon. Hopefully Lola was having better luck with finding a good place for her six life lines. If either Lola or I could find just _one_ good hiding spot, we would hopefully be fine. We had to make sure we had at least one copy of evidence to barter with, or it could cost us both our lives. Then again, if this was some amateur, I wasn't sure that I had much to worry about anyways, but I didn't want to let my guard down. I had to be aware of everything, because there was still the possibility that this _wasn't_ an amateur, and that's what I was afraid of.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, I'd managed to find places for four of the copies. I figured that I should keep one close to me at all times, so I'd come up with the perfect solution. When the idea had come to me, I had run downstairs, grabbing myself a roll of duck tape. I noticed the same measuring tape from the washroom in the kitchen, and figured that Mom and Dad were re-tiling the house. They and Frankie had actually gone out a while ago, probably to look at samples. Anyways, back to the kitchen. I grabbed the duck tape and headed back up to my room, grabbing a CD off my desk. There was an acoustic guitar leaned up against my wall on a stand with the strings already loosened a bit. I managed to fit the CD through the sound hole, taping it to the front-inside of the guitar. Neither of my brothers played my guitars since they had their own, and Frankie would hardly notice it should he walk in and want to play one night. No would would ever guess that this acoustic guitar was harboring evidence. It was genius. _I_ was genius. Yeah, who's smart _now_ Lola?

Wow, apparently she is, because she _still_ has me competing against her when she's not even around. How she does this, I'll never know. It seemed like she had the ability to annoy me to no end, and yet anything I did never had an effect on her. I swear, for every four hundred and fifty two wins on her part, I had maybe one. I could never catch a break with her. I was too nice and she was just..well, too manipulative. I honestly didn't understand what Jason and Shane liked in her. Even more so, I couldn't understand how they could still like her knowing exactly how she treats me. Some brothers.

It was about six when my parents called, asking me and Shane to pick up groceries for dinner from the store. At first I was hesitant, not wanting to step anywhere near Shane when he was driving a car, but when I looked in the fridge it was basically empty. I would have asked Jason to drive but he had gone back to his apartment, where I'd safely hidden one of the discs, along with one under the floor mat of his car when he wasn't looking. So unfortunately, Shane was going to have to do the driving, considering I still only had my permit. I wanted my full license, but I didn't have nearly enough time with the amount of concerts and press we had on our shoulders.

"Shane! Let's go!" I yelled, standing at the front door, waiting for my older brother. Of course, he had to look perfect before leaving the house, and then ask me a million and one times to be sure.

"Coming, coming," He muttered, jogging down the stairs. I still stood, completely ready with my hands crossed over my chest. I rose my eyebrows at him incredulously. I swear, he could take longer than a girl sometimes.

About ten minutes later we were walking down the aisles of the grocery store, which believe me, was a very hard thing to do with Shane. He was stopping so often picking up things we didn't need that I had actually been forced to get a basket to hold all his crap in. There must have been at least four bags of chips, but yet he refused to get anything else but water to drink because it wasn't 'healthy'. This kid, sometimes, just wow. I think I might be adopted? Or maybe he is, because we can't be related.

"Come on Nate! I want fudge-sicles!" He yelled, pulling my arm. Is he seriously twenty one?

"Shane, we haven't even gotten what Mom asked for," I told him and he frowned.

"Your no fun, come on," He replied, and before I knew it I was being tugged down the aisle with the freezers on either side. His eyes were scanning the contents behind the glass, trying to look for ice cream or Popsicles or fudge-sicles, or basically anything he wanted because that's what he'd been doing with every other aisle. When he spotted the last box of the chocolate treat hiding inside the freezer he practically ran for it. I didn't see why, considering there wasn't anyone else in the aisle anyways trying to get it before him. When he went to grab it he shouted, gaining the attention of a woman rounding the corner.

"What kind did you want again?" The woman asked into the cell phone. I scrunched my eyebrows together, trying to remember where I heard that voice. This lady was familiar, and I was _positive_ I had met her before.

"Oh..." She answered whoever was on the other end, "They're all out, sweetie. Someone just grabbed the last box." Shane turned to me, giving me an 'I told you someone would take them if I didn't get there fast enough' look. I rolled my eyes at him as we both continued to eaves drop in on the conversation.

"I can get you another kind if you want," The lady said. It became kind of obvious she was talking to her son or daughter, probably some little kid that made their mom go get Popsicles at dinner time. "I can get you the rainbow ones, you like those right?" Another pause as the person on the other end spoke, "Okay, I'll get the rainbow ones, and then the chips. You just go watch the movie and forget all about last night okay and have as good as a birthday you can. They'll catch the guy, don't worry."

Woah, woah, woah. Then it hit me where I'd seen her. This was Lola's Mom! I think her name was Holly Luftnagle, but I couldn't really remember. I turned to Shane, giving him a look, but he didn't seem to catch on.

"That's Lola's mom," I whispered forcefully, glancing back at Ms. Luftnagle as she searched the freezer for the popsicles she had promised her daughter.

"I knew it!" Shane whispered excitedly, "I knew I recognized her from somewhere." Then he pieced together a few more pieces of information, frowning and looking down at the box in his hands. He tugged me over towards Mrs. Luftnagle, and I was nervous about what he was going to do. I mean, Shane never really did make a good impression.

"Miss Luftnagle?" He asked. She pulled her head out of the freezer, box in hand, and looked at us curiously.

"Uh," She seemed confused for a moment, "Yes?"

"Here," Shane said, offering the box of fudge-sicles to Lola's mom. She looked down at them suspiciously and then back to us. It seemed as if she was silently questioning why we would give them to her when Shane had made a full speed run for them.

"Oh!" Shane smiled, "Uh, I'm Shane, and this is Nate. We're Lola's friends." When she realized who we were, she instantly light up.

"Oh! Jason's brothers, right?" She smiled, I nodded, and Shane seemed a little put off by the fact that he was being referred to as 'Jason's brother' and not Lola's friend. See, Lola was mean.

"Yeah," Shane nodded after a few minutes, "We know it's her birthday, and I overheard you saying she wanted these, so... Here," He handed them over. She took them graciously, and continuously thanked us.

"How is she, anyways?" Shane asked, tiling his head, "I.. uh, assume you've heard..."

"Yeah," She mumbled, a frown settling down on her face, "It's awful. She's doing alright. She said you boys really took care of her last night. Thank you so much for watching her. Is there anything I could do?"

"Oh, no, that's okay," Shane answered, "It was really all Nate here," Shane added, pointing to me over his shoulder with his thumb, "He let her have his bed and gave her his shirt and everything. Stayed up all night to make sure she was okay." Of course Shane didn't realize what he was saying. Truthfully, they put her in my bed without asking me, ransacked my closet and put it on her, and I hadn't slept all night because I didn't want to have the nightmares she had had. There was definitely no kindness involved. Kindness and Lola didn't even go together.

"Really?" Lola's mom asked, raising a suggestive eyebrow, "Hmm, she never mentioned that. She did recall having an awful nightmare and having someone to hug until she fell back asleep."

"Er- yeah," I admitted, rubbing my neck nervously. Shane shot me a look over his shoulder as if he couldn't believe we'd had any kind of contact. According to Lola, that was strictly forbidden.

"Well, on behalf of my daughter, Thank you," Mrs. Luftnagle smiled. I think that was the only 'thank you' I'd ever gotten from Lola, and it came from her mom. "Well, I've got to get home. Lola has.. um.. Hannah and.. Mike over, and they need their snacks," She laughed, shaking the basket she was holding. "It was nice to meet you. Maybe the both of you and Jason could come over some time, Lola would like that, I'm sure. Especially you, Nate, since you were so nice in helping her out last night."

"Uh..." I mumbled, "...Maybe. We're- Uh, very, um, busy?" It was so obvious that I was hesitant, and it was even more obvious that Mrs. Luftnagle had no idea of mine and Lola's yelling matches.

"We'd love to!" Shane interrupted, ignoring whatever attempt I had been making to get out of the situation. Lovely, now Lola's mom was making play dates for us all. Okay, again gross. Any pronoun that includes me, Lola, and the word 'date' do not go together either. That combination is _evil_, and makes me want to be sick on the spot. Lets remember to block out any more uses of those three words in the same sentence.

"Uh, well, we have to go too now," I spoke, my voice wavering just a bit.

"What? No!" Shane protested. I was sure we were making ourselves out to be a dysfunctional family in front of Lola's mom. Yeah, exactly what I needed right now.

"Come on, Shane!" I whisper yelled forcefully, grabbing Shane by the arm, "Nice to see you Mrs. Luftnagle, tell Lola we said hi!" I plastered a giant forced smile on my face as I dragged Shane out of the aisle. He complained the entire way that we didn't get any Popsicles, trying to run back to the aisle, and I could barely get the things Mom had asked for. Jeeze, Shane was such a hassle to shop with. It was like I had to play mother to him or he'd be a flight risk.

When we'd finally got home, we had taken half an hour longer than expected thanks to the four year old brain in a twenty one year old body. Mom had made dinner with what we had managed to get, and then yelled at Shane for buying the amount of useless junk he had. After that it was close to nine and I found myself trudging upstairs to my bedroom. Usually I could stay up much later, but I hadn't slept last night and I was running on virtually nothing. Even though I tried to act as normal as possible, I couldn't deny that this was eating at me. I couldn't remember being both this strong, and this scared all at once in my life.

Changing into my pajamas, I crawled into bed, pulling the covers around me. When I breathed in, I smelt the unique, and relaxing, scent of strawberries and apples. I couldn't remember my bed ever smelling like this, but that didn't mean I didn't like it. On the contrary, I liked it a lot. Maybe more than a lot. And soon, the scent had lulled me into a dreamless, peaceful sleep. But as we all know, no good thing ever lasts, because before I knew it, I was awake again. I heard my door creak open, just like last night, and then the floorboards squeak. A bang echoed off my desk, and my eyes cracked open. The clock read two am, and I inwardly groaned, turning over to face the wall.

"Go to bed, Shane," I mumbled into the darkness, relaxing again. All movements in my room stopped, until I heard the squeaking of the floorboards again as whoever was in my room left. Soon after that I was asleep again. I couldn't remember hearing anymore creeks or squeaks or even bangs from Shane, so I assumed he had left. This silence lasted the entire night, giving me the good sleep I needed, preparing me for the morning to come. Except nothing could really prepare me for what would come next.

"Hey Shane!" I called to my brother after I'd gotten out of bed that morning. I walked out of my room, towards his, knocking lightly.

"What?" He called back. I opened the door and he looked up to me from his bed.

"What did you want last night?"

"What are you talking about?" My forehead creased at his question as I tried to remember what time he had come in.

"Around two, you came into my room, right?" I asked, my face the image of confusion.

"Uh, No. I was asleep." He answered. Immediately my head began to work double time. Jason was at his apartment, Frankie didn't weigh enough to cause the floorboards to creak like they had, and Mom and Dad slept downstairs and wouldn't of had a reason to be up at 2am. "Nate?" Shane's voice cut my thoughts, and I let the confused face slide from my features.

"Uh, never mind," I told Shane, shaking my head as I backed out of his room and towards my own. If none of my family had been in my room last night, then maybe it was just my imagination. Maybe I hadn't really heard anything at all. And then thats when in the middle of my room, I fell flat on my face. When I looked to see what I had tripped on, I noticed a tape measure laying neatly on my floor next to my desk- The same one I could have sworn I left on the washroom counter yesterday. Hmm.

**A/N: There was a major hint in this chapter about what's going to be happening really soon. Ps. I was wondering if anyone noticed that Lilly and Nate's stories about why they hate each other are different? They each blame the other for it. So yeah, :) I hope you liked it, Review!**

**Ps. I'm going to be in New York the 25th to the 28th, so there will be no updates. **

**Pss. The story I'm co-writing with Brooke is going to be up sometime tonight hopefully, so watch out for that and please please read. Its, uh, something that I haven't seen done anywhere in fanfiction before, so hopefully you like it. It's going to be on _her_ account, Brookiebabbyy, so keep checking back. :) Hopefully you'll review both this and our new one. **

**Revieww!**


	5. Chapter 5: Lilly

**A/N: Heyy! Sorry for the super long wait for this chapter. NYC was great, except for guys coming to to flirt with me when I was standing next to my mother. It was awkward to say the least. Anyways, Thank you so so sooo much to the reviewers, you guys are amazing. Even though I'm not sure if she reads this story, special thanks to _Zoey24_ because I read somewhere that she actually recommended my story. Thats so awesome! :) And an extra thank you to those of you who left super long reviews, I absolutely love reading them. Anyways, on with the chapter- Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

Anyone But You

Chapter Five

By the time Saturday afternoon had rolled around, my head was still in spins. Slowly, everything had eventually started coming back to me. At first I couldn't remember much, but after Nate had showed me those few clips, I could suddenly vaguely remember the night. Over the next few hours, as I laid comfortably in my own bed all the details began to flow. I could remember the taste of the swirly lolly-pop I'd had, and I could remember the background music that had been playing at the scene. If I concentrated hard enough, I could feel the exact temperature it had been in the building last night, and I could smell the sweets on the table I had been standing next to. Everything was so clear to me, almost as if every time I closed my eyes I would relive it over and over. Every single time I blinked, I could feel the air, smell the candies, hear the music, and taste the sugar on my tongue. Every time I let my eyes fall shut all I could see was Nate pulling me through the crowds, his body pressed to mine as I stood terrified in that alley, and him hugging me tightly in my own moment of weakness. And the only thing I could think was that he was never going to let me live it down. I had actually needed him and he was going to make sure I never forgot it.

The only thing I could think to do was to never let it happen again. I wasn't going to let him see me cry anymore, or see me afraid. That wasn't the kind of person I wanted him to think I was. I didn't want him to think that there was a possibility that I might just need him. More than that, I didn't want to need him, I didn't want anything to do with him. I wanted to forget that I had ever let him get the slightest bit close to me. In fact, if anything, I was going to make sure that I pushed him further away. I couldn't let myself be weak, vulnerable even, around him. I'd done him wrong so many times in the past that I knew he might just take advantage of that.

I snuggled deep into my bed, trying for hours to fall back to sleep. I found that I just wasn't able to. Every time my eyes closed, the scene played back to me, and watching it one time was more than enough. Besides that, I just couldn't seem to fall asleep. I was extremely tired, but I couldn't manage to just sleep. The shades were closed and my lights were off. The blankets were pulled tightly around me, despite that it was almost summer, but there was something wrong. I couldn't pinpoint what it was, because nothing seemed different. Everything seemed exactly the same. The bed was the same one I had slept on for ages, and the comforter was no different than the one I'd had since ninth grade when we redid my room, and lastly there was that same smell of apples and strawberries that was so familiar to me that I almost didn't notice it.

When I finally realized I wouldn't be getting much sleep and relaxation, I reached for the phone on my bedside table. When Jason had dropped me off earlier that morning, my Mom had told me Miley had been calling. She hadn't called my phone yet since I'd been home, but I figured that I should at least let her know that I was okay. She had looked so panicked last night when she'd asked Nate to take care of me – not that I needed to be taken care of – and I felt I should make sure she was doing alright also. So I picked up the phone, sliding it up and dialing the number I knew so well. I don't think it even rang one full time before she picked up.

"Lilly?!" I almost had to pull the phone away from my ear.

"Yeah, Miley," I answered quietly, "It's me."

"Oh my god!" She freaked out, "Lilly! Where have you been?! I tried calling you all night! Your mom thought you were staying here! And you weren't! And since you weren't home, and you weren't here...well, where the hell were you?!"

"At the Grays" I answered her. If anything, I wanted to sink back and become one with the wall I was leaning against. I mean, I'd stayed the night at Jason's apartment once or twice, and we hung out there pretty often, but, I'd never stayed at the Grays house. Most likely since I didn't say 'Jason's' Miley would assume that I went home with Nate, which was a sick, sick thought.

"So you, Wait-" She paused, shocked, when she'd finally taken in my words, "You were at Nate's house?" I could almost see her eyes bugging out of her head as she said it.

"And Shane's!" I protested, trying to justify me being there, "And Jason was there too! Their parents picked us up, and.. uh, I wasn't exactly in the state to pick whether or not I wanted to go..." My voice trailed off, wondering what she would think of my statement. She could easily interpret it as a number of different things other than being in shock. Truthfully, I didn't really want to tell her I had been so frozen, because it might lead to me admitting that I was far more involved in this crime that I wanted to be. And if I told her that, there was a possibility I could get her just as involved as I was, and that was something I didn't want.

"What?!" She flipped again. Exactly what I was hoping wouldn't happen. "What the hell do you mean? What happened?!"

"Nothing!" I lied, "I just.." Thinking quick, I came up with a plausible response, "When you left, Nate took me outside, and I was just kind of overwhelmed with the crowds. You know how claustrophobic I get. I wasn't thinking straight and... they just let me stay the night."

"Oh.." Miley answered, probably kicking herself for overreacting. What she didn't know was that she was hardly overreacting because I could have very well been dead last night.

"Yeah. Jason took me home this morning."

"Okay," She mumbled, "Are- are you okay? I mean, did you see anything?"

"No. Not much," I lied again, playing with the loose ends on my blanket, "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Oh, okay," She answered. There was a pause in the conversation for just a moment before she spoke again, "I guess I'll go."

"No wait-" I blurted out, and she stayed on the other end of the line, silent, waiting for me to continue, "Do you think you could still come over? You know, for my birthday? Oliver too?"

"Yeah, yeah of course," She spoke immediately, "What time?"

"Um, now?" It came out more like a question than a statement, "You could come over and we could grab a few movies?"

"I have a couple. I could just bring them right over..."

"Okay. I'll see you soon. I'm gunna call Oliver..." I mumbled. We said our goodbyes and then I hung up. When I called Oliver the conversation lasted much longer and I actually did have to hold the phone about a foot from my ear. Oliver had always been a little protective of me, but that was ordinary since we were practically brother and sister. We'd known each other since preschool, and although I had had a silly little crush on him as a four year old, I couldn't imagine him being anything more than my best friend. And since he was my best friend, he most definitely didn't need to act like my older brother. Especially since I was _older_ than him.

So when I finally got off the phone, it had been nearly twenty minutes. The doorbell rang downstairs and I heard my mom answer. Miley's voice drifted from the front door, up the staircase to my ears and I got out of bed. When I got to the last step of the stairs, I greeted my friend. She wasn't in her movie 'jamies but neither was I. Actually, I was still wearing Nate's Elvis Costello shirt and a pair of black short shorts. This probably looked awkward, but she didn't ask any questions, just shooting me an odd glance.

My mom offered to go get us snacks from the grocery store and said she'd be sure to pick up some fudge-sicles since I'd eaten the last one last night. She would have gone earlier, but she knew Miley would be over soon and didn't want to leave me alone. Soon after my mom left, Oliver showed up and the three of us retreated into the basement. The basement wasn't really a _basement,_ it was like a personal hang out room. We had a comfy leather couch and a large screen television, along with a pool table. There were game systems and games littered across both the floor and the shelves of the entertainment system. And of course, my mom had invested in some surround sound speakers recently. I'm not sure why she spent so much on renovating the basement since it was just the two of us, but I think it had something to do with her big promotion at the law firm.

Oliver and Miley made themselves comfortable on the couch as I sifted through the DVDs Miley had brought. There wasn't much that I hadn't seen before, so I randomly picked out a comedy that would take my mind off of the real horrors of last night. About ten minutes into the movie the phone was ringing. Miley sat up to put the film on pause and I reached over to grab the cordless phone of the table in front of us.

"Hello?" I answered, forgetting to look at the caller ID.

"Hi Lilly," My mom answered back, "I'm at the store now, but I'm going to be a little later getting home, okay? I'm just going to pop over to work on the way home, I left a few documents there yesterday afternoon for the case I'm working on."

"Sure Mom," I replied, "Oh.. and don't forget the fudge-sicles.. okay?" I felt like a child when I asked for them. There was almost a guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach, despite the fact that Mom had _offered_ to go get them.

"Oh..." Mom mumbled back, "They're all out, sweetie. Someone just grabbed the last box."

"Okay..." I sighed, my voice coming out quiet and disappointed.

"I can get you another kind if you want," Mom offered, "I can get you the rainbow ones, you like those right?"

"I guess..." I mumbled. The rainbow ones were good, but definitely not as tasty as the fudge-sicles. So sue me if I had a constant craving for the chocolaty goodness.

"Okay, I'll get the rainbow ones, and then the chips. You just go watch the movie and forget all about last night okay and have as good as a birthday you can. They'll catch the guy, don't worry."

"Kay. Bye Mommy," I answered, hanging up the phone. It didn't matter anymore that I'd forgotten about the murder for the last half an hour because suddenly everything was back again. I snuggled deeper into the couch, pulling the throw blanket tighter around my body. If I had been paying any attention to the movie, I wasn't anymore. My mind was solely on the crime, the discs, and what would eventually happen to me.

What exactly would happen to me anyways? To say I wasn't scared would be a complete lie. I was terrified to the core, even if I managed not to show it. I didn't have a clue what I was dealing with. For all I knew, someone could be tracking me down this very second. Then again, this could have been the overreaction of the century, but I was seriously doubting that. Whoever it was had gone through a lot of trouble to make sure that no one had seen anything at the actual crime scene, but unfortunately, Nate and I had just _had_ to stumble on his back exit. I was sure he wasn't too happy about his plan being potentially ruined.

But still, that didn't really answer my question. I was venturing into the unknown here, and the only person walking with me was the one person I didn't want- Nate Gray. The stupid prat. The only upside would be that if something happened to me, he'd get it too eventually. But then again, I'm not that mean. Sure, we have our differences, but I wouldn't really wish anything bad on someone... unless I was the cause of said bad thing. Come on, he was so easy to prank, and the annoyed look mixed with 'super pissed' was priceless. But if anything really serious ever happened to him, I'm not sure how I'd react. I was so used to the hate relationship we'd fallen into that it was just natural. I didn't like him, he didn't like me, that was it. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. However, this relationship was built solely on distaste for each other. I wasn't sure that either of us really, truly hated the other. It had always been so normal, but now that we were involved in something so serious as murder... would everything change? I couldn't imagine us being anything other than enemies, and I couldn't imagine not having him around to mess with.

"Lilly?!" My mom yelled as she came in the door. Miley and Oliver hadn't noticed me off in my own world, so they continued watching the movie as I stood from my seat. I told both my friends that I'd be right back before going upstairs to see what my mom had wanted.

Mom was standing in the kitchen, a briefcase of files on the table and a few bags of groceries on the counter. She had already gotten the chips out of the first bag, but apparently she had abandoned them to sift through some papers from work. I tried to catch a glance at whatever case she was working on, some of them were pretty interesting, but she was so engrossed with it and flipping the papers at superman speed that I could hardly read a word.

"The fudge-sicles are on the counter, honey. Put them in the freezer before they melt, okay?" She looked up to me for mere seconds and then returned back to her work. My forehead creased as I looked at her questioningly.

"I thought they were out..." When I uttered this sentence, her head snapped up from her work, swiveling around to look at me. She had a huge grin plastered on her face as she put the papers down, turning towards me.

"Well, I ran into your friends at the store," She explained. I just got more confused, "Nate and Shane, Jason's brothers."

"Oh?" I asked, pulling the treats from the bag and walking towards the fridge.

"Yeah. Shane, I think it was, offered the fudge-sicles to me. He knew it was your birthday and he wanted you to have them. Isn't that nice?"

"Yeah..." I agreed, closing the fridge after putting the Popsicles inside and turning to look at my mom.

"They're sweet boys. I don't know why you don't hang out with them more often."

"I hang out with Jason all the time," I raised an eyebrow, "And sometimes Shane too."

"What about Nate?" She asked.

"Well.. uh," I stumbled on my words, "Me and Nate... we don't really get along."

"That's ridiculous," She laughed, not believing me and turning back to her work. "He's a nice boy. You know what? You should call Jasonn up tomorrow and invite them all to dinner; Mr and Mrs. Gray too. I mean, most of the family pictures are in the photo albums, so they'd never know you weren't Lola." It was true, they wouldn't know. The living room was all redecorated with white couches, hardwood floors and abstract modern art on the walls. The entire house was pretty modern looking, and my mom was definitely a fan of the abstract look. Thinking about it, I'm sure that the only pictures of me in the entire house were either in my bedroom, my moms or the photo albums that we kept in the basement in a locked glass case. When I tried to protest to my mom, she insisted again.

So that's what I found myself doing the next day. Long after Miley had gone home, my mom had went out to get something nice for dinner. I had lied earlier and said they were coming, but it wasn't until now that I was actually calling Jason. I had just finished a walk through of my own house to make sure there were no 'Lilly' pictures or anything that would give me away, and now I was sitting on my bed. I dialed Jay's number and waited a few rings until he finally picked up.

"Hey Lola," He answered. Caller ID.

"Hey Jase," I answered, standing from my bed and walking around my bedroom, "What're you doing today?"

"Uh, nothing, I don't think." It sounded a lot like a question.

"So, there's this thing..." I started off, "And well, long story short, my mom wants to invite your fam over for dinner tonight..."

"Really?" He asked, astonished. In the entire two years I had known him he had never been to my house.

"Yeah. You, Shane, Frankie, your parents... the twerp."

"Who?" He asked. I was sure he knew perfectly well who I was referring to.

"Nate." I rolled my eyes, letting out an aggravated breath.

"Well, yeah, I can come," Jason answered, then paused, "I'm going to call my parents and I'll get back to you, okay? Um, what time?"

"Fiveish, my mom said."

"Alright, I'll call you back soon."

"Bye Jase,"

"Later Hollywood." I smiled as I heard the dial tone. He hadn't called me 'Hollywood' in so long. The nickname was an old one, from back almost when we'd first met. I could hardly remember why he'd started calling me it in the first place, but it had definitely caught on. For just about the next six months after the nickname caught on, he didn't even bother to call me Lola. The name kind of went downhill though, after Mom introduced herself to Jason as 'Holly Luftnagle', instead of sticking with Heather. I guess Jason felt awkward nicknaming me after my mom, but I had actually really liked the nickname. I was glad to hear he was using it again.

Hanging up my phone I walked downstairs to set the dining room table like my mom had asked. I was hoping that the Grays weren't busy and would agree to come since I had already told my mom they would. When I was half way finished putting the plates out on the table the phone went off next to me. When I picked it up, it was Jason again. He told me that his parents could come and that they'd all be there soon. Just as we hung up, my mom walked into the door carrying the groceries. She placed them down on the kitchen counter, calling me to help put some of the things away and then help her to make the meal. It was hard, just the two of us on our own having to do everything by ourselves since Dad and Seth, my brother, lived in Nevada, but we managed just fine.

Finally five rolled around and everything was set. My mom had made a huge dinner for the eight of us to eat and she was just pulling the last pieces together. She had drinks for Mr and Mrs Gray and herself, and of course the house was always littered with pop for me and my friends. Finally, as my mom placed the finishing touches on the dinning room silverware, the doorbell rang.

"Lilly! Door!" My mom shouted to me. I ran towards the front entrance, adjusting my wig one last time in the mirror on the wall. Mom didn't have to put on a wig or anything, but unfortunately I did. I brushed invisible specs of dirt off my black skinnies and straightened out my emerald green top. Mom wanted me too look nice, but I didn't need to be all dressy either.

"Hey Jay!" I smiled, seeing him first as I opened the door. I instantly pulled him inside and he took off his shoes. "Mr and Mrs Gray! Shane! Frankie!" I kept smiling, ushering them all in.

"Hello Nathaniel," The smile faded, my face a tad darker. My eyes narrowed watching his every move as he came into the house. If he noticed, he definitely didn't show it. Soon enough though, my mom was rushing into the entrance from the kitchen, greeting everyone and looking slightly frazzled.

"Lola!" Mom yelled to me, "Why don't you take the boys into the basement to play some games, or show them around the house while I talk to Denise and Kevin?"

"Um, Okay.." All of the four boys' eyes were focused on me as Mom led Mr and Mrs. Gray into the pristine living room on the right. I looked around the house awkwardly for a moment, a little confused on whether I should be showing them around.

"So, I guess I could give you the tour," I laughed awkwardly, "Then we could go downstairs?"

"Sure," Shane spoke up, smiling, and easing the awkward silence away.

"Um, well, this is obviously the front hallway thing," I moved my hands around a bit as if I was showcasing it. The walls were a plain cream colour and floors were hardwood, just like almost every other room in my house. There was a small decorative mirror on the wall and a table underneath it with a vase. When I walked forward, they all followed as I lead them towards the more main areas of the house. At the end of the entrance hall we walked up about three steps.

"Living room to your right," I told them, but didn't bother showing them since Mom and the Grays were busy in there. "Hallway to your left," I continued showing them around for about fifteen more minutes. Jason seemed as interested as one could be when being shown a house, Shane would joke around in every room we came to, pulling a mock thinking face and nodding his head. Nate was clearly bored, and Frankie, being only ten, was getting a little restless.

"Um, well, I guess I'll just show you my room upstairs and then we can hang out in the basement until dinner." I explained rather quietly. We were walking up the large staircase that was next to the living room, trying not to disturb our parents. When we got to the top, I passed a few doors before reaching my own.

"Well, this is it. Nothing spectacular." I told them, opening the door and letting everyone in. It was a simple room, not like Nate's with his millions of guitars on the walls. Instead my walls were covered in posters and framed signed band t-shirts. There was a desk, a bedside table, and a vanity that doubled as a dresser. That was about it besides the speaker system and the large cork board of random things that covered more than half of one of my walls. I stood awkwardly as they all looked over my room. It was rather silent until Shane caught sight of the one poster I had forgotten to remove. Theirs.

"That's beautiful!" He laughed, hunching over. My eyes shot to where he was pointing. The poster was taped up on the wall next to my desk. I was pretty sure that Shane wasn't laughing at the fact that I had it though. See, the picture looked entirely normal, except for Nate. To say the least, I had taken the idea from Jackson and drawn all over Nate's face. I heard Jason stifle a laugh and then my eyes shot to Nate. Frankie didn't really understand, but the seventeen year old did. His eyes were narrowed at the picture and then they moved to me, glaring.

"Oh come on," I muttered, rolling my eyes, "You had it coming." He went to respond, but before a fight broke out Jason managed to usher us all into the basement to play a few games or watch television. About an hour later, mine and Shane's game of Guitar Hero was interrupted by my Mom calling us up for dinner. We all raced upstairs, and I was first to the dining room since none of them remembered where it was. Less than two seconds later I found myself seated between Jason and Shane with Nate across from me between Frankie and his mom. My mom and Mr. Gray sat at the ends of the table. We all said grace and then began to pour the meal onto our plates.

"So Lola," My head snapped up to meet the gaze of Mr. Gray, "Your mother tells us you're going to University in the fall."

"Yes," I answered, smiling politely and nodding my head, "Pepperdine, actually, right here in Malibu." Mr. Gray nodded his head approvingly. I felt a nudge next to me and looked at Jason who smiled as if he was really proud. Neither Jason or Shane had gone to university because of the hectic band schedules, but it wasn't like I was a professional socialite or anything.

"What are you majoring in?" Mr. Gray asked.

"Law," I answered, "I really like it. I guess you could say I'm a bit aggressive, so it suits me well." I had been smiling as I said it, until I heard a comment from across the table.

"Got that right," Was mumbled from the mouth of one Nate Gray. I didn't think anyone else at the table heard it and I didn't think he knew I had either. His eyes were on his plate as he shoved another forkful into his mouth. I turned away from Mr. Gray, my eyes narrowing down his second youngest son.

"Excuse me?" I asked. His eyes widened a bit as he lifted his head and swallowed the mouthful of food.

"Hmm? What?" He asked, looking around suspiciously.

"Wanna repeat that?" I asked, tilting my head and raising both eyebrows. Shane and Jason were looking at the both of us curiously, worried that a fight was about to break out.

"What are you talking about?" Nate shot back, leaning forward slightly.

"'Got that right'" I answered, "Ring a bell?" The both of us seemed unaware of our parents' eyes as we leaned further across the table towards each other, glaring.

"So what? You admitted it yourself." He rolled his eyes. I almost let him off the hook until he muttered, "I don't need this."

"And I don't need you muttering stupid comments in _my_ house. If your going to say something about me, at least say it _to_ me." I spat, clenching my knife and fork tightly in each hand.

"Let it go! Jeeze!" He told me defensively, leaning back in his chair.

"No!" I yelled, "I won't." I stood from my chair, shoving it back violently. "I think by now it's common knowledge that the both of us hate each other, so the least you can do it cut your stupid little nice act because I'm not falling for it. If your going to say something, just _say it_. Do you honestly really think I care what you have to say to me?"

"Lola, sit down," He crossed his arms, "Stop being a Drama Queen." I ignored his comments, continuing on with my rant.

"I can't even have a conversation with your father without you being a jerk about it. You know," I turned to his parents, "I really feel for you, having to live with this _thing_ every day. I honestly don't know how you do it. He's inconsiderate, and a major idiot. At least if your son is going to hate me, tell him to do it properly instead of muttering incoherent, immature shit under his breath."

"Me hate you?!" Nate burst, standing from his chair, "I'm _trying_ to be nice to you. With all the stuff you've done to me you'd think I would have stopped by now! I even took care of you Friday night and did I hear one thank you? No! I didn't! Your _mom_ had to say it for you."

"I never asked you to do that," I seethed, my eyes narrowed on him, "I would have rather died that night then had to be near you." I slammed my utensils down, walking around the table to go upstairs to my room. I couldn't stand to be around Nate anymore.

"Yeah?" He yelled after me, "Well, I wish you would have!" I stopped dead in my tracks halfway to the dining room door. Instantly my body turned to him. My eyes were cold and blank as I stared right into his. Everyone around the table was watching us intently, eyes wide and shocked at our words.

"Go to fucking hell, Gray," I spat, my eyes never leaving his. His face changed as he realized what he'd said and the remorse poured onto his features. The anger that had been in his eyes before was gone now and it was clear he'd felt bad about what he'd said.

"Lola- I, um, I'm sor-"

"No." I spat, trying to keep my eyes from tearing, "Don't apologize, because you know what? I wish you were dead too." And then I walked away. Seconds after I had reached my room I could hear my mother apologizing profusely downstairs and then the Grays leaving. I listened to Mom bang down my door, yelling at me to call Nate and tell him I was sorry, but I refused. I knew I had gotten a little out of control, but there was no way I was going back on what I'd said. Besides, if he wanted me to say sorry, he was going to have to do it to. Or no- wait, that wouldn't work. He had already tried to apologize. Damnit! I just didn't want to and no one was going to make me.

Except the thing is. I was wrong. Because the next morning I found myself standing on the doorstep of the Grays house. Ringing the doorbell, I stood there awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other. I looked back at my mom, who was sitting in the car, and she looked at me pointedly. Then my head whipped around as the door answered. It was Shane.

"Lola? Hey..." He spoke, raising one eyebrow as if to ask why I was there so early in the morning.

"Hi Shane.." I smiled. He seemed to wake up at that moment because he looked down at his attire, boxers and a t shirt, and went red. Smoothing down his wild bed-head hair, he opened the door further letting me in. "I'm uh.. Here to apologize.. to Nathaniel." I mumbled. I didn't want to but Mom made me. Stupid mothers and their powers. I was eighteen now, shouldn't I have been able to pick who I wanted to apologize to?!

"Wha?" Shane seemed shocked, "Um- he's.. uh, asleep still... In his room." I nodded, "I guess you could go wake him up... you know where it is, right?" I nodded again before slipping off my shoes. I found my way up the staircase, pausing at the first door. I took a deep breath in and brought my hand up to knock. There wasn't an answer, but I guess that was because he was asleep. My hand connected with the doorknob and I twisted it open, slowly peeking into the room. When I caught sight of everything, I froze. My eyes went wide and I pushed the door open entirely as a breath caught in my throat.

"N-Nate?" I stuttered, my eyes trailing the room. Everything was trashed. I felt my heart pounding in my chest as I looked everything over. His comforter was tossed off the bed and the bedsheets were sliced up, along with several other items. Feathers from the pillows were floating around the room and his guitars were strewn around, out of place, a few broken.

"Nate?!" I yelled, running into the room, digging through the heaps of his belongings. Nothing seemed to be in its right place and a few things were gone, but worst of all, he was missing too.

"Oh my god," I mumbled, my eyes wide, thinking back two nights. What if something had happened to him? And oh god! Last night I had wished he was dead. Oh my god, oh my god. My hands were shaking, my knees wobbling as I tried to stay standing. My breathing was shallow as my mind began to think of what could have happened to him. And then I began to cry as I collapsed in the middle of his floor. Not only did I cry because he was gone, but for me also. Now that they had him, they would be on the look out for me.

"Lola?" I could hear Shane's questioning voice as he bounded up the stairs, "Lola, what's wro-" His voiced faded away as he caught sight of Nate's room. I turned to him, seeing him with the same shocked and terrified expression I had and began to cry harder.

"He's gone." I whispered. And the only thing I thought was that I never told him I was sorry. And maybe, just maybe, I was sorry for a lot more than last night.

**A/N:** **And next chapter comes the big shocker that I'll bet one one will guess. So I've got a question and an announcement. So the question first. If you haven't noticed there have been slight hints at Shane liking Lola. This _will_ come into play in later chapters. Should it be something minor, or major?**

**And the announcement. The story I'm co-writing with Brooke is now up. It's called _Irreplaceable_ and there is a link to it in my profile. Please, please check it out. Ps. Its the same style as my other two HM stories, where the POV changes. Pss. I write Joe's POV.**

**Oh! One more question. For those of you who were Fans of _These Words_, would you like to see a sequel? I can't decide if I want to do one, so please, go to my profile and vote on the poll there as to whether or not you'd be interested.**

**Anyways, Review, please!**


	6. Chapter 6: Nate

**A/N: I'm so so sorry about having this out so late. On the weekend I worked on Chapter four of Irreplaceable, and didn't have the time to finish this. Unfortunately, I've also been grounded off the computer, so the updating will be slower. On another note, MAJOR thank you to the reviewers. Those of you who left super long ones are extremely awesome. I absolutely love reading them. I got seventeen reviews last chapter. That is just, Wow! Awesome. But, on with the chapter, get ready for a big surprise near the end. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, sans plot.**

Anyone But You

Chapter Six

I can remember spending the better half of that day just sitting. I was sitting in my room, on my bed, staring down the tape measure. It was almost as if I expected it to suddenly get up and move, anything to explain why it was now in my room. The thing is, it didn't. It didn't do anything unordinary, or odd at all. It just sat there on the ground next to my desk, exactly where it had been since this morning.

I probably looked really crazy just staring at it, but I didn't care. It wasn't so much that it was weird either that the tape measure was there. I had gone out to the store with Shane for so long yesterday, and everyone had already been back by the time we were home, so anyone in my family could have moved it. If we were redoing the bathroom, it wasn't so odd to think that my parents wanted to redo our rooms too. We had probably been too busy for them to mention it to us. But still, I stared. Mostly it was because I needed something to stare at, something to question. Ever since Friday night I was on edge- expecting something. I mean, after being a major witness to a crime, with evidence, it usually makes you a prime target. But nothing. Absolutely nothing was happening. Lola and I hadn't been killed or kidnapped, there were no threatening phone calls, no break ins, no letters- nothing. The waiting was killing me. It was as if I wanted it to just happen already so I wouldn't have to keep waiting for it. I wouldn't have to keep my guard up and be suspicious of every single tiny thing, like this stupid measuring tape.

But I needed it too. The measuring tape, which was more likely than not just a remnant of my parents remodeling ideas, had given me a bit of peace. I had been expecting something, and I'd found whatever I needed in it. Casting all rational thinking aside, I let myself believe that this was the effects of Friday night. I'd been a witness and had incriminating evidence, so the killer was back to move a tape measure around my house. Although, now that I thought about it, it sounded stupid. I was just desperate to find something to take me off edge and put my mind at rest.

I was still curiously watching it when the phone went off next to me. It provided a distraction from concentrating on aforementioned object, so my eyes naturally darted over the the caller ID screen. I waited a moment until I saw Jason's name come up on the screen. I reached out, grabbing the phone, and pressed the talk button, bringing the speaker to my ear.

"Hey Jason," I answered, my eyes going directly back to the object laying abandoned near my desk. Come to think of it, if my parents were remodeling, why would they leave it on the floor?

"Hey Nate," Kevin greeted, "Where are mom and dad?"

"Around, I think... why?" I asked.

"Lola invited us all over for dinner tonight."

"What?!" I choked on my own spit. If I needed any kind of distraction this was a pretty good one. Well, not so much going to Lola's, but the complete shock of the idea was enough to jolt me out of any obsession with a random object. No way was I going to _Lola's_. I had to see her enough at celebrity events with Hannah, and then sometimes outside of 'work' when she was with Jason and Shane. I didn't want to add to that and actually go to her house. It would have been a lot more than awkward too.

"Yeah, so go ask mom and dad if they're busy." Jason asked. Well, he didn't really ask so much as ordered. I told him to hold on a minute and then put the phone down on my bed. Getting up, I went downstairs into the kitchen where my mom usually was to ask her, like Jason wanted. Just like I'd suspected, when I walked downstairs I saw my parents at the kitchen table.

"Hey Mom," I asked, walking into the room. Both Mom and Dad looked up at me questioningly.

"Are we busy tonight?" I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, biting into it and leaning against the counter for their answer, "Jason wants to know. Something about Lola inviting us all over for dinner." My mom instantly lit up when I'd said it, and I, of course, frowned. More than likely she was going to say yes to Lola's offer and I'd be forced to go too. It was kind of apparent they either Lola's mom had been the one extending the invitation, or that I was excluded from the event. I would have preferred the latter, that way I wouldn't be expected to attend.

"Of course we're not busy! You tell Lola that we'll all be there." Mom confirmed. Damn. I really did _not_ want to go to this thing.

"Sure," I grumbled, "I'll get the details from Jason."

After getting her address and the times from Jason, Jason said he'd be over soon. When he came over, we were all ready and we headed over to Lola's for an tense evening. Or maybe it would just be tense for me, considering, oh, I don't know, we had a serious dislike for each other. I wasn't sure that was ever going to change either. I had given her a huge opportunity to be my friend and end this, but it was obvious she rejected that. I don't know what she really got out of keeping this rivalry going, but nonetheless she did, and she kept it going strong. It wasn't even really that I disliked her. I could grow to like her eventually, if she cut the mean act, but it actually seemed to be getting worse. I wasn't sure if it would ever end.

A dull greeting, an awkward tour, and a few games of guitar hero later, we were all seated around the dining room table. So far, the night hadn't gone as horribly wrong as I'd expected it to. There had been that one moment in her bedroom with the drawn-all over poster of me and my brothers, but luckily, it had been cut short. Unfortunately though, I was now sitting across from Lola as the food was being passed around the table. Frankie sat to one side of me, and my Mom to the other. Thankfully, our parents were in such close proximity, so I was almost sure that Lola wouldn't pull a whole dramatic action scene, chock full of yelling and insults directed towards me. Oh how wrong I had been.

"So Lola," I looked up from my food when my dad started talking, "Your mother tells us you're going to University in the fall." Hearing that the question was directed towards Lola, I let my head drop down to my food again. This could be good news however. Maybe Lola would go to some far away university in New York or Boston and I wouldn't have to see her for another couple years. If she wasn't going to give up her hatred, then maybe she'd just leave me alone? I almost started to get excited about the prospect of a few Lola-free years until she ruined it for me with her next statement.

"Yes. Pepperdine, actually, right here in Malibu." Damn. I had been so close. Apparently she was staying in Malibu, which would be of no help to me. Actually, it pretty much _guarenteed_ she'd be around for the next few years. I'm sure Jason and Shane liked the idea, but of course, I did not. A question later and Lola had revealed her major. She was apparently going into Law because she was _"a bit"_ aggressive. A bit was an understatement, if I was concerned. Actually, just aggressive would be putting it lightly.

"Got that right," Practically spilled from my mouth. I didn't think anyone had heard it because there wasn't any immediate response. I was kind of glad about that too. I didn't think my parents would appreciate the outburst, and I was sure Lola would flip.

"Excuse me?" Oh no. Please don't tell me she heard me.

"Hmm? What?" I answered awkwardly, trying to act like nothing had happened. I was silently praying she would drop it then and there because I didn't want to get into it in front of my parents. No doubt she would start it, but whatever I said I couldn't be accountable for. She just brought out the worst in me.

"Wanna repeat that?" She asked me, raising her eyebrows accusingly.

"What are you talking about?" I tried to deny. I pretty much pretended like I hadn't said anything. No one else had heard it, there wasn't any witnesses to back up her claims.

"'Got that right'. Ring a bell?" She just _had_ to push, didn't she? I leaned farther across the table, a slight glare being sent her way. We couldn't even have a nice, quiet dinner with our families without her taking offense in the slightest comment. I didn't even see why it mattered anyways. _She_ was the one who said she was aggressive in the first place; I just merely agreed.

"So what? You admitted it yourself." I told her, my eyes naturally rolling. She was taking this was too far and blowing it completely out of proportion. I had said _one_ comment to myself and she was already off the walls. Had I not come across a poster of me in her room with devil horns and a pitchfork? Wasn't that a little more offensive than me agreeing with her?

"I don't need this," I muttered to myself. And it was true, I didn't. I didn't need to be talked down to for saying she was _aggressive_. She was pretty much proving it right now.

"And I don't need you muttering stupid comments in _my_ house. If your going to say something about me, at least say it _to_ me." She spat across the table. Apparently she had a keen ear, because she'd heard my second 'stupid comment'.

"Let it go! Jeeze!" I defended myself. She really needed to _lay off_. This was totally uncalled for for some tiny sentence I'd said. She should have dropped it ages ago.

"No! I won't." She then stood, pushing back her chair and leaning onto the table, "I think by now it's common knowledge that the both of us hate each other, so the least you can do it cut your stupid little nice act because I'm not falling for it. If your going to say something, just _say it_. Do you honestly really think I care what you have to say to me?" Apparently letting it go was out of the question.

"Lola, sit down. Stop being a Drama Queen." I crossed my arms, leaning back in my chair. She looked pretty crazy and over dramatic, standing over the table throwing insults at me. I, on the other hand, was trying to stay calm and not give in to her antics. She always did this to try and get me to insult her back, or at the very least to annoy me. I wasn't going to let her win, especially not with our parents watching us.

"I can't even have a conversation with your father without you being a jerk about it. You know," She turned towards my parents, her eyes visibly softening, "I really feel for you, having to live with this _thing_ every day. I honestly don't know how you do it. He's inconsiderate, and a major idiot. At least if your son is going to hate me, tell him to do it properly instead of muttering incoherent, immature shit under his breath." Oh no way. She claimed that _I_ hated _her_. Yeah, I definitely hated her, that's why I was the one being civil and not yelling at her from across the table, right? Thats why I was the one who actually took care of her when she needed me. That's really grounds for hate. Lola needs a dictionary, and she needs to realize that I _don't_ hate her. Maybe I don't like her because of all the things she's done to me, but that surely didn't mean I hated her. If anyone hated anyone, it was her hating me for no reason. At least I had a good reason to hate her, even though I didn't.

"Me hate you?!" I finally broke. I pushed my chair back and stood up, much in the same way Lola had done moments before. "I'm _trying_ to be nice to you. With all the stuff you've done to me you'd think I would have stopped by now! I even took care of you Friday night and did I hear one thank you? No! I didn't! Your _mom_ had to say it for you." By now, my chest was almost heaving as I took the air in. I had practically yelled my entire defense to her.

"I never asked you to do that," She turned to me, her eyes narrowing dangerously, "I would have rather died that night then had to be near you." Final straw. She moved towards the dining room door to leave, thinking she had the last word, but oh no. I wouldn't let her get away with that.

"Yeah?" I yelled, "Well, I wish you would have!" She stopped when the words left my lips and turned around. My head reeled as I replayed what I'd just said.

"Go to fucking hell, Gray," She spat, and my words came back to me. Somehow I wished I could rewind those last few moments or that I could suck the words from the air right back into my mouth. I really, honestly, truly regretted saying what I did. Even if I disliked her, or hated her like she thought, I could never have the heart to wish something as permanent as death on someone. It made me feel no better than the face of the killer I'd caught on tape. If she had died that night, I- I didn't even want to consider that thought.

"Lola- I, um, I'm sor-" I tried to apologize the best I could, stumbling on my words. She cut me off mid sentence though.

"No." She shot back, "Don't apologize, because you know what? I wish you were dead too." And then she'd stormed out, leaving me speechless. I really hadn't meant what I'd said, but it was clear that she did. Instantly my chest constricted. Even if she had been just as brutal as I had been, I still felt awful about saying it, and she didn't even give me a chance to apologize.

Slowly I turned away from where Lola had been and saw the looks on the faces of my family and Mrs. Luftnagle. Jason looked pretty upset, having to watch one of his best friends leave with tears in her eyes, and also disappointed at the fact that it was clear neither of us were trying too hard to get along. I couldn't even decipher the look on Shane's face. He kind of looked confused, but also a bit curious. I couldn't see why he would be, other than the tiny hint that me and Lola had been through a lot more than we were telling people. Mom and Dad looked shocked, unable to believe the things that we'd just said to each other. Lola's mom was panicked, not sure where to look or what to do.

"Well, she really wasn't kidding when she said you two didn't get along," Mrs. Luftnagle tried to ease the tension with a joke of some sort. It didn't really work. I smiled lightly at her attempt, but no one laughed. Mom and Dad kind of burst into action, and we all excused ourselves to the door. It was kind of obvious that Lola wouldn't be coming down any time soon, and the situation had become extremely awkward, effectively ruining the night.

"I'm really very sorry about Lola," Mrs. Luftnagle gushed as we all stood by the door, ready to leave, "She's usually not like this. She's just been very touchy ever since..." She trailed off, but we all understood. It was understandable that she'd be on edge since that night, but this definitely wasn't because of it. Murder or not, I didn't have a doubt in my mind that she still would have blown up on me. That was just the kind of relationship we had.

Once we were in the car, I thought I was home free. It was silent on the way home, and once we drove into the driveway, Jason got in his own car and went to his apartment. Me and Shane both climbed out with Frankie and went into the house first. I was almost up the stairs to my bedroom when I heard Mom calling me back downstairs by my full name. This _definitely_ wasn't good. So, slowly I made my way downstairs, Shane giving me a silent 'good luck' look, and then made my way into the living room, where I was sat down on a sofa.

"Explain." Was all my mom said before I broke down and explained most of mine and Lola's rivalry.

"Look! We just don't get along, it's been this way for ages. You know she once cut the curl out of my hair? I'm serious!" Was how the rant ended. My parents both looked a little overwhelmed at the new information. They exchanged glances, and my mom turned to me, a little less angry.

"Fine." She breathed, "Go upstairs to bed. Your grounded, and your going to apologize to her tomorrow."

"Fine," I secretly rolled my eyes, pushing myself off the couch and bounding upstairs into my bedroom. Again, it wasn't late, but I was still pretty tired. I pulled back the covers on my bed and flopped into them. I could hear music or the television, or something coming from Shane's room across the hall, but didn't question it. It was pretty normal for him to be doing either of those things since it was pretty early. I, however, was pretty intent on getting a good night's rest. I would need it if I was going to have to face Lola again so early in the morning, and, dare I say it, apologize. I didn't even see why I had to. I had already _tried_ apologizing to her at dinner but she wouldn't have any of it.

I dug myself deeper into my bed, surveying my room. My eyebrows scrunched up as I noticed the missing tape measure that was on the ground near my desk for most of the day. I couldn't imagine where it had gone to, but I didn't really take it seriously anyways. I had probably kicked it somewhere accidentally while I was walking around my room. It was pretty insane to think that it could move on its own and even more insane to think that the killer would 'torture' me by moving an object around my house. I was he could do a lot better than that. And as I thought about this, I found myself drifting off into sleep. I noticed that the distinct smell of strawberries and apples was now gone, and I found myself missing it.

It was around two in the morning when I was jolted awake again by the sounds of shuffling. I stretched my arms a bit trying to get into another comfortable position. I heard the creaking of the floorboards start up again, and then the strumming of a few chords on my acoustic guitar. I could hear the tinniest difference in the sound, thanks to the disc hidden inside, but to anyone else it wouldn't have been noticeable. Thats when my eyes scrunched up together. Who would be playing my guitars so early in the morning?

I turned in my bed, laying still. I cracked my eyes open and watched the dark figure loosen the chords on my guitar so that they slacked. The person reached their fingers into the sound hole, sliding out the hidden CD from inside the instrument. I was half asleep, so I wasn't totally aware of what I was doing, so instead of laying flat against my bed quietly, I pulled myself into a sitting position.

"Hey, don't do that," I mumbled to whoever it was. I didn't want them to take the disc or I would have one less piece of evidence, "I need those." I yawned as the figure's head shot over to me. I wasn't adjusted to the darkness yet, so I couldn't make out who it was. In my half asleep state, I figured it was Shane, since he was about the same height and a probable candidate for being in my room at such an hour. If I had been fully awake, I probably would have thought differently.

I watched, my eyes half closed as the figured made its way to me. In seconds, I found an arm tightly around my head, a cloth pressed against my mouth. After that everything went pretty hazy. For a few seconds, everything went in and out of focus until I found myself falling against my pillow. I didn't remember much after I fell asleep that second time, but I found myself waking up in my room again later that day. The clock read two in the afternoon and I was astounded my parents had let me stay up so late.

When I woke up that morning, I didn't remember much. I recalled going to bed early in the evening, and then waking up sometime around two to a hazy figure. However, I attributed the latter to a nightmare, figuring I was due to have one sooner or later. At least it hadn't been nearly as bad as the one Lola had seemingly experienced on Friday night. My nightmare didn't seem like anything in contrast, actually, considering I hadn't exactly woke up screaming.

Shuffling out of the covers, I looked around my room. Something seemed oddly off about it. The colour didn't seem quite as bright as I remembered it to be, and the angle of the green chair wasn't how it usually was. Then again, Mom had probably come in to do laundry and moved the chair by accident. A few of my guitars were out of place, or missing as well, but Shane had most likely borrowed them, or Frankie was playing with them in his room.

I pulled myself out of bed, stretching and yawning. I made my way over to the closet and pulled open the doors. It was a lot emptier than I remembered it to be, but my clothes could have been in the washing machine, dryer, or at dry cleaning. I think I left some at Jason's too, and maybe Shane had worn something without asking. I pulled out something plain and made my way over to the bathroom. The house seemed oddly quiet, but I hardly noticed. I took my shower, dried off and got dressed. Then I remembered I would have to go tell Lola I was sorry today.

Sighing, I left the washroom and made my way downstairs. Something about the entire house seemed off to me, as if it wasn't the right colours, or things were just slightly out of place. A couple things were missing and I couldn't place why. Everything did look rather ordinary though, but there was definitely a weirdness factor to it. I merely shook the feeling off, thinking I was going paranoid thanks to last night's nightmare and walked into the kitchen. Usually my parents were there, but today it was empty. The entire house seemed to be empty now that I had noticed it.

I looked around for a note explaining why, but I couldn't find one. Perhaps they were in such a rush that they'd forgotten to tell me or leave me a message? It hadn't happened before, but I didn't doubt it. Instead of standing there wondering why my family was gone, I opted to make myself something to eat. I opened the fridge and found it almost empty. I pulled out some orange juice and poured myself a glass, then put some dry cereal into a bowl. I put everything down on the kitchen table and pulled out a seat for myself. I grabbed the cordless phone off the counter before sitting down to eat my food.

As I put a spoonful of the dry cereal into my mouth and took a sip of the OJ, I pressed the Menu button on the phone. I went to scroll through the contacts list to call Shane to see what was up and where everyone was, but the list was empty. Someone had probably deleted it by accident, nothing big. I racked my memory for Shane's number and finally came up with it. I stored it into the contact list first to make sure it was there, and then called. Instead of ringing like it usually did, it went straight to answering machine.

_Hey, this is danger. Leave a message and I'll get back to you when I can._ Huh, odd. I couldn't remember a time when Shane left his phone turned off.

"Hey Shane, it's me. I was just calling to see where you guys all went, but, uh, I guess your phones off. I'll see you when you get home?" I spoke before hanging up. I tried Jason's cell too, but his also went straight to answering machine. Was it, keep your cell phone off day or something? I thought long and hard again and finally came up with Hannah's number. I didn't know why I would call her considering she probably didn't have a clue where my family was. I was just looking to find someone who didn't have their phone turned off. My house seemed off, and everyone was gone, and now I couldn't get a hold of them either. When I dialed her number, I waited for the rings. None of them came. Instead, I heard someone pick up and I waited, figuring it was the answering machine.

"Hello?" Her voice came through, and I sighed with relief.

"Hannah?" I asked, just to make sure she didn't have one of those wacky answering machines that pretended to actually answer.

"Nate?! Where-" And then the phone call cut short. When I heard the dial tone I knew we had gotten disconnected. I pulled the phone away from me, turning it off. Furrowing my eyebrows, I dialed her number again. A recorded voice on the other end of the phone told me that the number was now out of service. That was weird, considering I had just called it two seconds ago. Instead of calling again, I slowly put the phone down on the table, eying it for a moment curiously.

I let my eyes wander towards the television after a minute of two. I reached across the table for the remote and turned on the television. The tv guide channel told me instantly that there wasn't anything interesting on, but I figured that at least watching boring tv was better than being forced to apologize to Lola. Speaking of Lola, my mom had told me I was supposed to tell her I was sorry this morning, yet she had let me sleep in, and now they were gone. Maybe, by some spur of luck, I had gotten myself out of this apology.

I found myself flicking through the channels, stopping on one that looked rather interesting. The set looked oddly like my upstairs hallway and there didn't seem to be any actors in the scene. It surprised me then when a door opened and someone who looked suspiciously like Shane walked in. I raised an eyebrow, becoming confused. I then realized that the set was in fact my upstairs hallway, and that the person who I'd thought was an actor was actually my brother. I then swiveled around in my chair, turning towards the stairs that led upstairs.

"Shane?" I called out and I got no response. I turned back to the tv and watched as Shane apparently walked towards where the stairs were. I became even more confused as I watched this because in reality, Shane _didn't_ come down the stairs. He wasn't even in this house. Maybe my parents had signed us up for some wacky reality tv show that wasn't really filmed at our house? Maybe they were on the _set_ of our house, because these sure weren't security cameras or anything, otherwise Shane would have already been down those stairs and bounding towards me.

When I skipped to the next channel, this confirmed my suspicions. It was of the kitchen. Except in the kitchen on screen, my parents were sitting at the table. Lola was across from them, crying, and my Mom and Dad looked worried. Jason was pacing in the background. The only thing I couldn't seem to figure out was why _Lola_ would be on our reality tv show and not me.

I flipped ahead a couple channels until it no longer showed my house. At the time I didn't really wonder why our 'Reality Tv Show' would be on several different channels, all showing different things. Instead, I had been trying to find an at least somewhat rational reason for what was going on. But the next thing I saw was one thing I couldn't explain. I had turned on the news accidentally, since it was the next channel after the twelve or so stations playing my reality show. The lady was sitting there, shuffling papers, and then she put a hand to her ear piece, listening closely to whatever was being said to her. I watched as the colour drained from her face, and she looked directly into the camera.

"Live breaking news," She announced, and then a picture of me came up to the left of her head on the background's green screen. I instantly became confused, wondering what kind of news I could have made in the short time I had been sleeping.

"Seventeen year old Nathaniel Gray, of Connect Three has been reported missing." My head tilted, and I listened to the woman explain. Pictures of my trashed bedroom came onto the screen, and then it went to some reporter. Whatever explanations I had been trying to come up with for everything that was happening ended there, because as far as I was concerned, a person wasn't missing when they were sitting in their kitchen and my room had definitely been a lot neater when I had woken up. So if what I was seeing was an actual news report and I was actually missing, then where the hell was I? Because this looked _a lot _like home to me.

**A/N: Alright, a few questions for you guys and an explanation. Explanation first. So the idea of _Shilly_ isn't exactly Shilly. It would definitely be one sided, with Lilly/Lola considering it, but not being serious about it. There wouldn't really be _moments_. I'm just not sure if I wanted to make Shane's crush a rather drawn out thing, or down play it. So now with the explanation, would you rather it be major (Drawn out) or minor (Down played)?**

**Also, A few questions. Once the Nilly really starts to kick in over the next few chapters (although, it already has, if you've been paying close attention to the hints) Who do you think will be the first to admit they like the other?**

**One more. Should there be a sequel to These words, would you want it to focus more on Joe or Lilly?**

**Anyways, Review please :)**


	7. Chapter 7: Lilly

**A/N:** **Hey guys! I want to say thank you so much to the reviewers, you guys are absolutely amazing. Twenty four reviews, wow. Thats so awesome. Special thank yous to Torina, peaceloveejonas, and parakeet17 for their _super_ long reviews. And thank you to so many of you who have stuck with me through this story so far, as well as those who were with me through These Words. You guys are amazing, and totally inspiring. Thanks to those reviews, this is actually my longest chapter so far.**

**Special Note: _Irreplaceable_ has been deleted for 'violating the terms of service'. I'd like you to know that I will _not_ be moving this story to the camp rock section, and should it get deleted, I will repost it. I would appreciate your support on this subject, because I think those who have legit HM characters in their stories are being unfairly targeted, and being pressured to move their stories into a section where it doesn't make sense for it to be. This is an HM story and it belongs in the HM section. If I'm breaking rules by including the Jonas brothers, then I would still be breaking those rules in the camp rock section, so I might as well break them here. Also, Irreplaceable will be back up as soon as possible, to those of you who are reading it. Please look out for it, and if you don't manage to catch it, we _may_ send out PMs to those of you who had it on Alert. **

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

Anyone But You

Chapter Seven

It seemed to me that at first I could do nothing but cry. I couldn't even decide what it was I was crying for. There were just so many reasons, and I had so many regrets weighing on my shoulders. There was even a point where I was wishing that Lola had never existed just so Miley never would have planned a huge birthday bash. I was coming up with anything and everything in my mind that I could have done to prevent this. Even if it didn't make much sense, or it wasn't practical, I was beating myself up over not doing it. Maybe if I had moved to Nevada with Dad after the divorce I never would have met Miley and gotten involved in the Hannah Life? Maybe if I just hadn't of been born there wouldn't have been a birthday to celebrate in the first place? Maybe then I never would have met Nate and we wouldn't hate each other and he wouldn't be missing just because he tried to protect me from some crazy psycho killer. This was all my fault.

We didn't deserve this. I mean, I had always been a relatively nice girl, except when Nathaniel Gray was involved, but that didn't count. And I also had to admit that he was a pretty respectable boy himself... to other people. Then again, even now he had let some of the past two years go in favor of putting it behind us. I had known in the back of my head that the two of us screaming at each other wouldn't help get us out of this situation, but forgive me if I'm not as forgiving as he apparently is. I'm sorry, but two years is a long time and two years takes an even longer time for me to forget about. Our rivalry had always just been there, it had been something constant in my life between new friends and friends that slipped away, good grades and bad, boyfriends and those who stood me up. It was always something I could depend on to be there. Whether or not I was sure that Matt would show up for our date, or that I would pass my English exam, I always knew that I hated Nate and he hated me. Thats just how it was.

But now, something I had always considered as constant, I found slipping away. It wasn't so much that we were growing to like each other or that we were becoming friends. This was different, and this was something that mattered. I had shot my mouth off yesterday, saying some words that I knew I didn't mean, words I wanted to take back, and now I didn't know if I would ever get that chance. It wasn't that I didn't hate him, I just found myself worrying; scared that I had been a catalyst to his kidnapping, or that I could be held responsible for his death. If I hadn't breathed in that alleyway, or if I hadn't tripped and given the culprit a good look at us, he could have been okay. He could have woken up today in his own bed and I could have apologized to him the way I now realized I wanted to. I could have hugged him for the first real time in my life and told him that even if I hated him still, I couldn't deny that I needed him.

It had been a few hours since I'd found the scene of the crime. I had been dressed in my regular school clothes, my mom dropping me off to tell him I was sorry, and then I was going to go to school- sans wig, of course. When I'd first seen it, my mind was blank. When I'd realized that he was gone, I had broke down, and I hadn't picked myself up since. The entire Gray family was in shambles, but Mr. And Mrs. Gray were trying to keep strong. The police had been called and there were reports circulating all over the television. Everything was a haze, and I wanted to do something, anything to help. All of this was my fault, and if they didn't find him, I wasn't sure I could forgive myself. He didn't deserve this and I knew that, no matter how many things I'd done to him and thought he had it coming. This was just _too far_. I could cut the curl from his hair and fill his facial soap with extremely dark self tanner and not feel guilty, but I couldn't live with death on my hands. I didn't even want to face the prospect that they wouldn't find him alive, that was just out of the question. I mean, I had evidence and so did he. If anything happened to him, I would hand over those tapes to the police in three seconds flat and I was sure the killer knew that. He knew that if he did anything, he would be caught. Well, at least I could only hope he was smart enough to know that.

But there was also a selfish side of me that refused to be ignored. If they'd gotten Nate less than three days after the attack, how long would it be until they found me? Once they had both of us, would there really be a way out? No one besides us knew that we even had evidence; no one else even had any idea of what had happened. The guy could easily just kill the both of us off and no one would know. Well, they'd know that we were dead, but the guy would probably never be caught and they wouldn't figure out why me and Nate were even targeted. I wanted to let someone in so desperately, but I couldn't put someone else at risk. There was already the possibility of Nate's blood on my hands and I didn't want anyone else's. My worst enemy's disappearance had already had a tremendous effect on me and I couldn't image how I'd feel if anyone who actually meant anything more than stability were to go missing.

It was around one or two on the same day and I found myself at the Grays kitchen table. I could hear the thumps of the CSI crew's heavy boots through the ceiling as they investigated Nate's room for clues. I was almost positive they wouldn't find any, but I still had hope. I mean, with the luck I had, I didn't have a doubt in my mind that the Malibu police department would walk out of this house with no more information about the crime than they had when they walked in. As they searched Nate's room for evidence to pinpoint who took him, the only question I had running through mine was where he was. I already knew who had him, it wasn't hard to figure out. All you had to do was find one of the twelve tapes laying around and it would be clear. But I was sure the cops wouldn't come across them. If Nate had taken half the care I had in placing them in secure locations, we would really be giving them a run for their money. In other words, the criminal would have a hell of a time finding them, and so would everyone else. I guess you could count the both of us dead.

My eyes trailed the room around me, taking everything all in. Mom was somewhere outside answering questions about Friday night. The rest of us were waiting patiently for our own turn. Jason was nervous, but he was holding up. He was pacing the kitchen, trying to keep his mind busy on anything but the fact that his little brother was gone. Mr. And Mrs. Gray looked the worst, but you could tell they were trying to stay as composed as possible. Shane had gone upstairs to fish out his cell phone in case Nate called with a ransom note of some sort. They were all pretty put together, being cooperative and working with the police to make this as easy as it could be. I, on the other hand, was being anything but easy.

I was still crying, wiping at my eyes every three seconds. My mouth was emitting retched sobs and my body was shaking. It had been difficult to deal with a murder at my birthday party, then being a witness to a major crime. Now someone I might even consider myself close to was gone. I had convinced myself that the worse part of this situation was the waiting. I knew I would be next and I knew I would have the same fate as Nate, if not worse. It was just a matter of time. It could be hours, or days or months before they came for me and all I could do was wait for it. Just wait and know that I was going to die before I even started really living.

For an eighteen year old I hadn't done much. It would seem like I'd lived an ideal teenage life, balancing celebrity parties and a completely separate normal life. But that wasn't exactly true. I'd spent the better part of my teenage years losing friends over stupid fights and being stood up by even stupider boys. Even as Lola I had never really had it great. Miley, or Hannah rather, had always been the centre of attention and I'd mostly been known as just 'the sidekick' or her 'right wing'. We even had to come late to my own party so I wouldn't be out done on the red carpet by more important, famous people. But now I was being hunted down because I'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the worst part was that I wouldn't even get to make something of myself. I wouldn't get to go to university and get a job. I wouldn't get to get to have a family, and I'd never get the chance to fall in love. The worst part of it was that I was going to die the same person I'd always been; a nobody, and that was something I couldn't deny.

"Lola, sweetie?" My head snapped up to face my mom. I wiped away a few tears and let out a shaky breath.

"Yeah?" I whispered.

"It's your turn now," She told me. As I went to stand, I found a hand on my arm. I looked over to see Shane, helping me up from my seat. He tried his best to smile reassuringly, but it came out forced and meaningless. I felt so guilty for being weak and forcing Nate's family to be strong for me, someone who didn't even mean a thing to him.

"Okay," I whimpered to my mom as I clung to Shane. I felt myself pressing into his side as I walked on un-sturdy legs. He helped me outside, letting me lean on him for support as I tried to compose myself. I couldn't even manage to breath without shaking or feeling a sob rising in my throat.

When we reached the front door, Shane detached himself from me to swing it open. There were several cop cars surrounding the area and the red and blue lights were making me dizzy and disorientated. I swayed a few time in the doorway before Shane came back to me. He led me outside towards the cop waiting with a digital recorder to record our conversation on. When the police officer caught sight of both of us, he let Shane put me down nicely on a bench, but then demanded Shane leave. Shane reluctantly obliged, trying to shoot me another reassuring smile as he squeezed shoulder lightly.

"Come get me when your done," He whispered, and I could only nod before he walked back into the house.

"Lola Luftnagle, correct?" The man asked, taking his seat on the bench next to me. He peered at me curiously through dark sunglasses and I couldn't help but feel intimidated.

"Yes," I squeaked, knowing I had to say something because it was being recorded. Had it not been, I would have opted only to nod because I didn't trust my voice. I was terrified I would spill something, anything about what I knew. I didn't want to give out information just yet, not knowing whether or not it could save Nate or potentially put him in even more danger.

"Can you recount what happened this morning, please?" He asked politely, touching my arm. Without a second thought, I pulled my arm back, away from his touch. It was cold, and felt almost hostile, not like the gentleness he was injecting into his questions.

"I came over to apologize," I admitted, sniffling, "Because I'd overreacted over something when Nate and the Grays had been over for dinner last night." He nodded to me, silently telling me to continue, "Shane let me in and he told me Nate was upstairs sleeping and that I could wake him." I couldn't help but to pause again mid explanation to settle my uneven breathing. "When I opened the door, that's when I saw his room. It was- It- Well... you saw," I teared up, but managed to wipe away the saline drops before they made their trek down my cheek.

"Do you have any idea why someone might want to kidnap Nathaniel?" He asked.

"No," I replied. It sounded a little too fast and a bit suspicious even to myself. I hoped that somehow the policeman would tribute my fast reply to nervousness and not the idea that I was potentially hiding a huge piece of this puzzle. It wasn't that I didn't want them to find Nate, I just didn't want to put more people in danger.

"Alright," He raised an eyebrow. He flipped a piece of paper on the notepad I hadn't noticed in his hand until now. "Lets talk about Friday night." I told me, coldness in his voice. Whatever compassion he had had for me was clearly gone since I hadn't fully cooperated with his last question.

"What about Friday?" I whispered, still nervous.

"Talk about Friday night, at your big birthday Bash. There was a murder, remember?" I nodded, "Tell me what you saw."

"Nothing." I answered again, immediately. My hands were beginning to shake and I felt like I was being closed in upon. I didn't feel like I was being questioned anymore, it was more like an _interrogation_. It was like I'd done something wrong, like I was some sort of criminal myself. Withholding evidence wasn't a crime right? If I remembered my law classes correctly, witnesses weren't obligated to talk, but I couldn't trust my own memory anymore, not with a flurry of thoughts running through my head. The most prominent being: _this is all my fault._

"Are you sure," He asked menacingly, as if he was trying to push information from me. He leaned forward across the bench as if he was trying to intimidate me, almost towering over me even though he was still in a sitting position. I couldn't even find a voice to answer him, all I could do was nod lightly. I hardly had a clear enough mind to move my head enough to consider what I'd done a nod. I dug into the back of my throat, finding some remnant of a voice and voiced what I wanted to say.

"I don't want to talk anymore," My voice cracked, "I want to go inside."

"You haven't answered all my questions," He protested, flipping another page in his notebook.

"I don't care," I almost spat, taking in a deep breath, "I want to go inside. I want my mom, and Shane, and-" My eyes teared up as I said something I never thought I would, "And I want Nate back." When I said the words thats when the tears came again. I had managed to stop them for my interrogation with officer pushy, but I couldn't hold them back for long. I pulled my knees to my chest, burying my head into them. I wasn't sure what happened for the few minutes after that, but I ignored any more questions directed to me from the cop and before I knew it, there was a hand on my arm again.

"Stop touching me!" I cried again, pulling my arm away. When I looked up, expecting to see the officer, I found myself looking at Shane. "Oh.." I mumbled, "I'm sorry." I wiped away a few tears as I watched his face. He was confused, and I could see why. In his mind he seemed to be debating on whether or not to ask about my outburst from moments ago, but I guess he decided to let it go. Moments later, he was on the bench next to me, sitting in the same place the cop had been, but instead of interrogating me he was pulling me into a hug.

"We'll find him, Lola," He promised me as my head pressed against his chest and my hands clung desperately to his shirt. I needed something, anything to hold on to. My stability had been kidnapped into the night and I was just grasping onto whatever I could get a hold of. Now that Nate was gone, I was trying to keep myself attached to everything, to keep me connected so neither of us would find ourselves missing too.

We must've stayed that way for quite a while. I was in a state almost similar to Friday night's except a lot more conscious. I was finding myself too weak to move from Shane's hold, both physically and emotionally. I felt safe here, with him, a feeling very different than the one I had been experiencing on this same park bench the the policeman. With the officer I had felt pressured and pushed and as if something was going to happen to me if I didn't answer properly. Shane, however, put my thoughts as ease. I had never really considered us to be friends before, but now I did. He was here for me at a time when I couldn't be there for myself, and it made me appreciate what Nate had done for me on friday night even more. It made me realize that I had really great people surrounding me, and I couldn't help but think that I was really going to miss them when the killer came for me.

"Come on," Shane's whisper met my ear, "Let's go inside, okay?" I nodded as he lifted me off the bench, much like he had helped me out of the kitchen chair earlier. He again let me lean on him, guiding me back inside the house and sitting me on one of the steps of the staircase. He took a seat next to me, just like he had on the bench, but didn't pull me into another hug.

"You okay?" He asked, dipping his head down a bit and tilting it to catch my eyes.

"No," I replied honestly, "I know me and him don't get along, but... I never wanted this to happen." My mouth poured out the words as I let my eyes close. I tried to steady myself, taking in deep breaths and pressing my hands hard against the stair to stop their shaking. I let out a breath that I had been holding, preparing myself to explain further before a loud, sharp _beep_ cut the silence that had formed. My eyes immediately snapped open and my head whipped around towards where the noise had come from. Instead of looking at what couple have made the noise, I found myself furrowing my eyebrows. I was looking in the direction that the sound had come from, but I found myself only seeing Shane. He was fumbling around, and I remained confused until he pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket, looking at it curiously. I watched as he pressed a few buttons, lighting up the screen, and then the he raised an eyebrow at it.

"What is it?" I spoke, my voice hoarse and barely audible. I leaned over a bit to glance at the phone's screen.

"A voice mail message," He answered back, his eyes never leaving the object.

"Who's it from?" I asked. He glanced over to me, his eyes scrunched up in confusion, and then back to the message alert.

"I don't know," He breathed. He seemed to stop staring at it as if he was expecting it to do something, and jumped to life. He began to quickly press buttons, dialing in some sort of password for his voice mail before bringing the cell to his ear. I watched as he listened to the message, and I watched as his eyes widened and the colour drained from his face. My stomach did flips, not liking the look that had developed on his features. I wanted so desperately to ask, but I was so afraid of the answer I'd get. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long, because he answered my mental question for me.

"It's Nate." Was all he said before jumping off the stairs and racing towards his parents, leaving me there. I couldn't blame him for forgetting about me for a few moments, his brother was missing and he had just gotten a call from him. Besides that, I was a nobody anyways, it wasn't like I expected Shane to actually care about how I was reacting to this, though I did appreciate the fact that he genuinely seemed to be worried about me.

I watched from afar as Shane let his parents listen to the message and their family all went into a frenzy all over. They tried to keep Frankie sheltered from it, seeing as he was only ten, but the kid knew something was up. I mean, it was obvious with the cop cars everywhere and all of us being asked to answer questions. Then there was the fact that Nate was no where in sight and the entire family in tears.

"Hi Lola," I lifted my head to find the person I had just been thinking about: Frankie.

"Hi Frankie," I answered back, mustering up my best smile to put on some sort of happy facade for him. It would be hard enough to deal with if Nate showed up dead, I didn't need to scare Frankie now when he was only missing.

"Want to play webkinz with me?" He asked, holding out a few that he had in his arms.

"Um," I choked out, catching a glimpse of the bright orange stuffed fish Frankie was extending to me. It reminded me exactly of the orange colour Nate had been for two weeks after the self tanner incident I'd put him through. "Maybe later, okay?" I tried to plead politely. I didn't mind playing webkinz with Frankie, but I just needed some time. I didn't want to have to plaster on a fake smile, and a fake happy voice and pretend like everything was good. I just wanted to break, and I wanted to stay broken, if only for a while. I wasn't quite ready to just pick up the pieces and keep going; not when Nate's life was on the line, and mine was too.

"Pleasee," Frankie asked, again, giving me the puppy dog look. I felt my heart almost breaking, sinking into my stomach because I knew I didn't have the strength to turn him down again. I had already been on bad terms with one Gray, and I didn't want to upset Frankie too, especially when everyone was trying so hard to keep it together for him.

"Frank," I heard Jason interrupted, "Shane will play with you, okay? I need to talk to Lola." Frankie looked reluctant to leave, but he did after Jason gave him a pretty serious look. I then found myself trying to ignore the questioning stare Jason kept shooting at me. When I didn't acknowledge it and the silence set it he found himself taking Shane's old spot, next to me.

"Hey," Was all he said, glancing at me again.

"Hi." I answered back quietly.

"Your mom wanted me to tell you she has to stay late at work tonight. She already left."

"Oh..." I couldn't seem to come up with anything else. It wasn't that I couldn't talk to Jason, it was just that we were so close that words weren't really needed. He understood perfectly that I felt awful about never getting the chance to say I hadn't really meant the words I'd spoken at dinner. He knew that deep down, there were some extreme pranks I regretted, even though I'd never admit it. He knew that I had accepted Nate as a part of my life, even if that part was my enemy, and that I didn't want to face loosing him. Sometimes he knew things about me before I even realized them myself. That's what I loved about us, about our friendship. I never needed to explain anything to him; he just knew.

"Jason?" I asked, breaking the silence that had settled between us. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as he raised his head lightly to look at me, as if telling me to continue. I paused for a few moments before turning to face him as well. "Can I stay with you tonight? I don't want to be alone."

"Yeah," He smiled lightly, nudging my arm lightly with his as he swayed a little closer to me, "Neither do I."

"Thanks," I forced out. My head automatically leaned onto his shoulder and I felt his arm drape around me. We were quiet, sitting there on the stairs. I could hear Shane and Frankie in the background playing webkinz and Mr. And Mrs. Gray were frantically talking on their phones. The shuffle from outside was from the police, even though the investigation of Nate's room was long over. It seemed everyone around us was creating noise, doing something to take their mind off of this, but I couldn't. No matter how many things I did at once, this would continue to weigh down on my thoughts. How could you just push the fact that Nate was gone to the back of your mind? Even if it was only for a little bit.

"I should call my mom," I whispered to Jason, detaching myself from his hold. He immediately pulled out his phone, pushing it towards me so I could make the call. I took it, dialing the numbers and then holding it up to my ear. It rang once, but then went straight to the answering machine, which I figured it would. Mom never answered her phone while she was at work, but I had thought for a moment that maybe she would have since this could be considered an emergency.

"Hey Mom," I spoke into the phone, "Jason just told me that your staying late at work. Um... I'm going to stay at Jason's tonight. I just- I- I don't want to be home alone." My eyes shot down to the main floor, watching everyone scramble around.

"I'm scared," I found myself whispering, playing with the end of my shirt, "So, I'll be at Jay's if I'm not there when you get home." And then I hung up. Usually I didn't have to ask to stay over at Jason's, but I didn't want to worry my mom. I mean, Nate was missing, and I didn't want to scare my mom by having her come home expecting me to be there and I wasn't. She would have jumped to conclusions and called 911 before two seconds was up.

"Jay?" I asked, handing him his phone back. He took it, nodding at me and stuffing the object back into his pocket, "Can we go now?" I asked. When I caught a glance outside the window, it was getting pretty late. The sky was beginning to darken, and had that golden, California sunset glow to it. Jason noticed it too and agreed that we should probably leave before it got too dark. It wasn't that he lived far away or that he didn't like driving at night, but the both of us preferred to be safely inside when the light faded away, especially considering the events that happened less than twenty four hours ago.

"Yeah, sure," Jason answered, standing from his place on the stairs next to me. "I'm just going to tell my mom okay? Then we'll go."

"Okay..." I mumbled. I watched him walk down the steps and into the kitchen where his parents were sitting. I couldn't hear much of the conversation, but I saw Shane and Frankie come into view as the who family talked. A few minutes later, it seemed that the five of them had reached an agreement and Jason came walking back up to me.

"Shane's going to come with us too, is that alright?" He asked. I didn't understand why he was asking _me_ if I was okay with the idea of Shane staying too. It was _his_ apartment after all, he was the one who could say who stayed and who didn't.

"Yeah," I answered, almost mechanically. I didn't mind Shane staying, but I had to wonder where he would sleep. Though, Shane would probably take the guest room and I'd make myself comfortable on Jason's couch. Jason's apartment wasn't big, really, but my no means was it small either. It was a nice size. There was the living room, kitchen, washroom, Jason's room and a guest room. There was a rather large office type room too, for both his computer and his playstation games. I liked it there, which was obvious since I would have considered it one of my few 'second homes'.

Shane came up to us after about a minute and told us that his parents and Frankie would be staying at a hotel for the night. It was apparent that none of them really felt safe in the house after someone had broken in last night. The three of us all made our way to Jason's car, which had been parked in the drive way since earlier this morning when he'd rushed over after getting the news. I found myself climbing into the front seat, Shane was feeling too confused and anxious to call 'shotgun' for himself. However before Jason could get in, the same policeman that had interrogated me was walking up to us.

"Where are the three of you headed?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and eying me from the corner of his eye.

"Shane and Lola are staying with me tonight and my parents are going to a hotel," Jason explained to the officer who seemed suspicious, but still satisfied with the answer.

"Alright," He let his eyebrow sink back down, "You three kids stay safe." He spoke, tapping the side of Jason's car as if to emphasize this point. Without further words from either of them, Jason got into the car, the three of us putting on our seat belts, and then we left.

We left behind the scene of yet another crime, but I couldn't leave my anxiousness and fear with it. I knew what had happened, and I knew there was a definite possibility that Nate was already dead, but I wouldn't tell anyone else that. I could see that the entire Gray family, however scared, was still hopeful, and I couldn't take that away from them. None the less, if I told them anything, they could become just as much a target as Nate and I were.

Not long after we left, the three of us had arrived at Jason's place. Unlike how I'd initially thought, I was given the spare bedroom for the night and Shane opted to crash on the couch. Luckily I was over at Jason's so much that I had an extra set of clothes and a pair of pajamas for the times when I had randomly slept here. Shane's visits were usually planned though, so he just borrowed a t-shirt from Jason and decided to sleep in his boxers.

Jason had offered to make us something to eat, but it was clear that none of us felt up to it. My stomach was churning so badly I was sure I wouldn't be able to keep anything down, no matter how good Jay's cooking was. I found myself going to bed early that night, unable to stay awake with the two brothers and pretend my knowledge of the situation was just as limited as theirs was. When I'd retired to the guest room, it was barely nine at night. I slipped into my pajamas, which consisted of mainly black short shorts and a white tank top, and then I pulled down the covers. For the longest time I couldn't manage to sleep. I was tossing and turning, my eyes jumping open at every creak I heard. Some time around twelve I had jumped out of bed, walking to Jason's desk and finding a cube of sticky notes. I pulled one off of the pile, grabbing a pen and writing something down.

_If I'm gone tomorrow, find my mix CDs and listen to them. -Lola._

I took the note and stuck it in a both obvious and secretive place. Pulling out a drawer of the desk, I stuck it to the bottom, right in the centre, so that if anyone pulled open the drawer it would be the first thing they'd see. Feeling satisfied that if I should go missing, I had at least left a clue behind, I crawled back into bed, but not before making sure my door was locked. If someone had broken into Nate's room, the most obvious way would have been through the door. Feeling at least just a bit more at ease, I snuggled into the covers, letting my eyes slip closed and finally falling asleep.

I didn't know how long I'd been sleeping when I'd heard the bang. My eyes had jolted open and my breathing caught in my throat. I didn't have that hazy feeling when you first wake up, instead my heart was beating in my chest at an inhuman rate. I was hesitant to move when I heard the shuffling behind me. Slowly I began to move, trying to make it seem like I was just moving around in my sleep. Thankfully, it worked, and when I squinted my eyes open ever so lightly again, I saw it. I froze immediately, and the eyes I had been squinting open just so slightly were growing to be the size of soccer balls. There was a man there, completely dressed in back with a ski mask covering most of his face. He seemed concentrated on the object in his hand, one that I remembered being there the night I first saw him in the alleyway. That was when I did the first thing I could think to do: scream.

"_Jason_!" I yelled, backing up on my bed, trembling, "Jason _help_!" The man-in-black's eyes shot up to me, and I could see the cruelness in them. I could see my death wish and I felt my tears starting to pool in my eyes. He was moving towards me slowly, as if he knew something I didn't, and I continued to back up, screaming.

"Shane! Anybody, please!" I yelled. As I went to back up further, I met the edge of the bed, tumbling off it. As quickly as I could, I was back on my feet, trying to keep the distance between myself and the intruder. My eyes were shooting between the man and the door as I heard the sound of Shane and Jay being woken up.

"Please, please don't do this," I shook my head, tears spilling down as I pleaded with the man in front of me. I felt my back reach the corner of the wall as he continued to close the distance.

"Just- just let Nate go, and I promise we- we won't tell anyone," I stuttered, lifting my hands into the 'surrender' position. My words seemed to fall on deaf ears because he didn't seem to react to anything I was saying. He just kept taking the small, slow, menacing steps forward as I prepared to meet my fate. The routine, however, was interrupted by a loud, hard bang on the door. He whipped his head around towards it as my eyes darted over.

"Lola!" I heard Jason's voice, "Lola, open the door!" I took any chance I could get. While the man's attention was on the door where Jason's voice was coming from, I took the opportunity to run. I skillfully moved from the corner, running past him and towards the door where Jason was banging. The man noticed my attempted and seconds before I could reach my destination, I felt his arms wrap their way around me.

"Lola!" Jason's voice came through again, "Come on! Please!" Shane's voice accompanied him now. I could hear their fists pounding down the door, but I didn't continue on my path. I felt a dull pressure on the side of my head, and fingers dig deeper into my side. My breathing became even more uneven, and I tried to quiet the sobs that were rising in my throat. I knew Jason and Shane could hear that something was going on inside the room, but I wasn't sure if they thought I was just having a nightmare. And truth be told, if this was a nightmare, it was the worst one I had ever had.

"Don't. Say. Anything." The words whispered mockingly into my ear and I knew instantly where the words had come from. I felt the man flush his body into mine, and I closed my eyes tightly, shaking and holding my breath. The man traced his fingers up my side, still digging them into my skin and leaving a slightly scratch. When his touch reached my ribs, I felt the pressure disappear. I tried to tune into anything but the sound of breathing as the warm air touched my neck.

"Your beautiful," The voice met my ears again, "It's a shame your friends will never see you again. Especially that Shane. He's really got eyes for you..." The cold, hard whisper made me shiver, and the sob I'd been holding back, surfaced. I knew I couldn't really take anything he said seriously because he was trying to scare me. But honestly, it was working well.

"I'm calling the police if you don't open this door, Lola!" Jason called again and I felt the gun dig deeper into my temple.

"Tell them not to," The man whispered forcefully into my ear again. I froze, not moving, until I felt the pressure at the side of my head disappear, and then slam back into position, snapping my head to the side. "_Tell them._"

"I- I'm.. O-Okay," I stuttered loudly, "_Please_, don't _Call_." I emphasized loudly, trying to make Jason understand. I could still hear the wiggling of the doorknob as one of them tried to get into the room. Both me and who I suspected to be the killer were silent. My eyes shot over to the phone in the guest room as the 'in use' button suddenly came on. I let out a deep breath, losing some of the tenseness in my shoulders. Before I realized exactly what was happening, I felt something reach up to cover my mouth.

"MH!MHMM!" Was all I could scream, my arms reaching up and weakly trying to push whatever it was away. I heard more bangs on the door and what vaguely sounded like Jason yelling that he had called and that they would be coming in a matter of minutes. My screams slowly faded into nothing more than whispers as I felt myself becoming weaker and weaker. My body began to go limp, and I could no longer fight off the man-in-black. This was when I knew it was done; this was when I realized I was going to die.

**A/N: And that was chapter seven. Tell me what you liked and didn't like, what you want to see more of and what you want to see less of. Any predictions on future chapters? **

**Review Please! You guys are awesome.**


	8. Chapter 8: Nate

**A/N: I am beyond sorry for how late this is. It took me forever to get it right, and I must have rewritten certain sections five or six times because they just didn't flow properly. Its not super long, but it's not the shortest chapter. I'd like to say major thank yous to the reviewers, you guys are absolutely the greatest. Just so you know, Lilly will be exposed as Lilly, but Nate will mainly be the only one to know. For sweetsmiles16, Miley doesn't play a major part in the story, however Oliver _might_. I haven't decided exactly in what direction I want to head, but there have been a few hints here and there that may relate to Oliver's plot line. And Parakeet17 wanted to see more Nilly, so thank her for the major Nillyness in this chapter. Anyways, enough of me, enjoy!**

Anyone But You

Chapter Eight

The light began to peek through the curtains as I found myself slowly opening my eyes. I was waking up in the same place I had gone to sleep in last night, which ironically looked identical to my room, yet it wasn't. It was the same in most aspects, but yet it was completely different, something I had figured out the hard way yesterday. It was familiar enough to instill a sense of comfort, but there was the lingering feeling of fear beneath that. In the back of my mind I knew that this could be considered anything but safe, however I couldn't separate the vibes I got from something that looked so much like home.

I stayed awake in that bed last night for so long. My mind had been reeling, mulling things over and thinking about every intricate detail. I was trying so hard to figure this out, but I was drawing a blank. I couldn't grasp the idea I had been presented with, much less understand it in full. It was so...complicated, if that could even begin to describe it. It was something I never would have dreamed of.

I had to wonder if they were missing me at all. I had seen all the news reports playing today and it was clear to me that I wasn't where I thought I was; home. I couldn't really be sure where I really was, if I was really here. I had spent over an hour thinking I was actually dead. Maybe I was a ghost, or maybe my house was my heaven? But I realized that was stupid, that wasn't plausible. The only conclusion I could come to was that I was gone, missing, just like the news had declared. I knew my parents would be worried, Jason, Frankie and Shane too, but that wasn't what I was wondering about. I was wondering about everyone _else._ My friends, my fans- the people that swore they cared, but did they really? When I called Hannah, she had seemed concerned, right until we were disconnected. If my eyes hadn't tricked me, I could have sworn Lola was crying on that tv set. Did she care?

It all seemed like something right out of a fiction novel. I'm missing and my arch nemesis is _crying_. I didn't think I had ever seen Lola cry before last Friday, so this was all unchartered territory for me. I didn't know where to step, what moves to make, if I could even make any considering my situation. For so long I had been lead to believe that her life would be better off without me, and now that I'm gone, she's in tears? If anything didn't make sense, this was it. She had wanted me dead at her dinner party, and now that she thought I could be, she wanted to take it all back, apparently. Looks like she's all talk. Then again, she's walk too considering all the things she's done to prove she doesn't like me.

Then again, I couldn't be one to talk because I found myself being worried about her too. It was kind of obvious why I was in this situation. From what I could remember, I had been kidnapped and brought to this place in the middle of Sunday night. I was pretty sure it had a lot to do with the fact that I had incriminating evidence hidden around my room, since I remembered fuzzy images of someone reaching into my guitar to pull out the disc. Looks like I was down one CD. But still, I had to wonder if Lola was going to be okay. She was just as much a part of this as I was, and eventually she'd be caught too. I just hoped that she could hold out long enough, and be smart enough to let the police in on it so they could catch the guy before he brought her to this place.

We should have gone to the police first thing the next day. Stupidly, we didn't, but I guess we had our reasons. We both agreed that maybe if we had laid low, and 'forgot' about it, the guy would let us off the hook. Figuring that if we did get ourselves into a situation, we could bribe him to let us go with the evidence, we kept quiet, not wanting to paint targets on ourselves. When we'd decided that, I hadn't thought the guy would go to such lengths as these. Now that I was here, it wasn't like I could go get those discs and hand them over to the cops if the criminal didn't co-operate, like I thought I could have. I was at a standstill, and I had run out of options. The only thing I could do was live and try to piece whatever I could together through the footage I was being supplied with, not that it would be any help anyways.

So far, I had figured out what I could. Through the news reports and what I'd heard off the tv, I had been missing since Sunday night, my room being found a complete mess by Monday morning. No one had any idea where I could have been, but my family had been questioned on the murder Friday night, thinking it might relate. They didn't even know how right they were in asking. The entire time, my family tried to be composed for Frankie. It seemed like he hadn't had a clue what was really going on, but I knew he was a smart kid and he'd put it together eventually. Lola was just... in tears the entire time. It was still so incomprehensible to me. She looked so broken, so scared, so _guilty._ It almost tore me to pieces just seeing that look on her face. It was something I had never seen in the eyes or anyone before and something I never wanted to see again. It didn't hit me as hard since it was masked by the rivalry, but it was strong enough to dig deep; strong enough for me to still remember it clearly as I laid in this bed.

I must have laid there for hours before I heard it. From down the hall, there was the distinct sound of shuffling, movement, from what would have been Shane's room. My eyes shot open from their half closed state and my body went rigid. The false sense of security that I'd become accustomed to was now gone as I began to fear the worst. The guy could be in the next room over, doing god knows what, just waiting for me. I didn't stop to think that he wouldn't go through all this trouble if he was going to kill me, I just scrambled out of bed, grabbing a guitar and inching my way towards the doorway.

I made my way out of my bed, still wearing just my pajama pants and down the hallway. I was holding the guitar in my hand, ready to use it as a weapon if I needed to. Grabbing the door handle, I slowly and gently opened the door, unsure of what I was about to see. When the door swung open, it creaked lightly and the room seemed normal. It looked just like Shane's room normally did, except this time the bed wasn't empty. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the blankets intently, wondering just who or what they were covering. When finally, the person shuffled again and the covers were thrown from their face, the confusion slipped from my features and I was momentarily stunned. It was Lola.

Her red hair was disheveled and strewn all across the pillow, her shirt was wrinkled and pushed up, showing her stomach because she had been moving around so much. I watched, shocked as she unknowingly kicked the covers from her, revealing black short shorts and patches of small bruises over her legs. I could do nothing but look on as I tried to force myself into moving. I reached the edge however, when in her sleep she turned her head, allowing me to see a large purple, almost black, bruise trailing from her temple to almost her jaw bone.

"Oh god," I mumbled to myself, feeling almost sick to my stomach. She had scratches all along her sides that had scabbed over and her eyes were squeezed tight almost like she was terrified. This was something I hadn't even considered could happen. I had been whisked away so easily to this place, but she... it was clear that she hadn't. It wasn't as simple for her, it seemed. Someone had hurt her, done something to her that caused these bruises, these scratches. It made my stomach swirl and my heart give out to know that someone had done this to her and I couldn't have done anything to help her. I had let this happen to her. If I hadn't of just pulled her down that stupid alley on Friday she would be fine. If I hadn't left that stupid camera on she wouldn't be covered in bruises.

My feet found themselves walking the trail to her bedside. The guitar that laid next to the door that I had previously brought to protect myself was just a reminder of how I wasn't able to protect her from this. Before I knew it, I was on my knees, kneeling next to her, my wide eyes covering every bruise and every scratch. She looked horrible and broken to a point where I was sure that a band-aid would never be able to fix this. I swallowed the lump in my throat, holding back the sting in my eyes as I let out a shaky breath. I had seen the guy commit murder, but this was just hitting too close to home. He had hurt someone that I had known, someone I was close to, and someone that- dare I say it- I may actually care about.

"Lola?" The words floated from my mouth as I lifted my hand to her arm. My eyes were boring into the bruises as my fingers brushed over her skin. My eyes shot to her face as she let out a low, pained moan, her eyes beginning to flutter. As quickly as it had been there, I retracted my hand, worried that she would flip out over the fact that I was touching her. But I couldn't seem to help myself. She looked so hurt and helpless, and instinctively my eyes lowered to the large purple bruise and my hand contacted once again with her skin, brushing over her temple. Slowly, her eyes began to open, and at first she looked confused as she focused in on her surroundings. It was almost like she was looking at anything but me as her face screwed up in pain.

"Lola? Hey..." I smiled as her eyes finally met mine. Softly, I brushed a few stray bangs away from her eyes as she furrowed her eyebrows at me.

"Nate?" Her voice strained, and my heart clenched at how tired and afraid she sounded. In that moment it was like every prank and every insult was put on the back burner and I felt obligated to take care of her. It didn't matter so much anymore that she hated me or that she wanted nothing to do with me. Looking at her then just instilled something in me, something that made me never want to see her like this again. It made me want to hunt down this guy and make sure he never laid a hand on her for as long as he lived. It was something that told me to make sure she would be okay.

"Yeah," I breathed, looking her over as she squinted her eyes, "It's me." She grunted a bit more, until she dug her face into the side of the pillow. For the few minutes before that, she had seemed somewhat okay. Once the pressure was on her bruise, she scrunched her eyes up, letting out low breath as she pulled away from the pillow quickly. She tried to reach her hand up to the bruise, but I beat her to it.

"Your okay," They spilled from my mouth. Before I knew it, I found her hand pressed up against mine to her cheek and I was seeing something I don't think I had ever seen before. She was smiling up at me from her place on the bed, bruises and all. It was apparent that it was my turn to be confused. Immediately my eyebrows furrowed and I shot her a questioning gaze.

"You don't know," She croaked, letting her eyes slip closed, but the smile never slipping from her face, "You don't know how afraid I was." Her eyes shot open to me again, and I could see the silent tears pooling. I may not have known how afraid she was, but I had a pretty good estimate. Whatever she had been through, with these black marks as evidence, was enough to convince me that it had been terrifying.

"I was afraid you were dead," She confessed, catching me off guard completely. I'm almost certain that my jaw dropped and my eyes grew two sizes. I had thought she was going to tell me about what had happened to her, what had caused these marks. Instead, she blew me away with this shred of information. She had be worried about me, and I think that shocked me more than any story I had been waiting to hear. The idea that she had been more afraid for me than herself was something I had never considered would happen. Sunday night she had been wishing I was dead, and now, here she was, so grateful that I was alive. What gives?

I felt her hand tighten over mine, almost gripping it. Her eyes were trained on my face as they darted back and forth between my own eyes. I could see how tired she was, and how hard it was just to stay awake right now. I wanted to know what had happened to her while I had been here, missing, but she was just too drained. I couldn't ask her that, not now, when she seemed at peace for just a while.

"You should get some rest," I told her, watching her eyelids slip down lower and lower. The corners of her lips inched downward and she tried her hardest to shake her head.

"I don't want to," She whispered, her voice hoarse. I tried to slowly pull my hand away from where it rested over the large purple bruise but when I did, her own hand grasped mine, keeping me from pulling away from her completely. I hadn't really noticed it at the time, but she was actually holding my hand, keeping me there with her, something I thought would never happen. Not that I had ever thought about it... much, anyways.

"Just rest, okay? I'll be downstairs if you need me," I promised, speaking lightly. Slowly, she began to shake her head again. Her eyes came back to bore into mine, the fear ever present and I felt the squeeze on my hand.

"Don't leave me," She pleaded. It was so quiet I had to strain to hear her. "He'll come back for me, and- and," She sniffled. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths, and her body shivered. The hand that wasn't in mine reached up to touch the scratches that trailed to her ribcage. They were deep and red, with blood dried along them. It was almost as if they had been created by a beast and not a human. I watched her fingers dance over the lines before I turned my gaze back to her face. A single tear dripped down from her eyes, and without a second thought to it, I pressed my thumb lightly to her cheek, brushing it away.

"I'll stay," I told her, resting my head on the side of the bed. I turned my head so I wouldn't have to see the numerous bruises and scratched on her body. Instead, I watched the door, almost forgetting that her hand was still entangled in mine.

"He's not going to touch you ever again, okay?" I breathed, "I promise you that." And as I said the words, I had to wonder if I was making a promise I couldn't keep. But I knew that as long as we were here, I felt obligated to be her protector. It was obvious that he had done far worse to her than to me, and I couldn't let him put her through it again a second time. If anything, I would make sure that I would be the one to take any more of the beatings he had in store because I never wanted to see her looking like this again. For as long as I had known her she had always been so strong and confident. Although the night of the murder, she had shown herself to be vulnerable, this was- this was so different. This was the vision of pain and torture. She couldn't protect herself anymore and this was proof. I had always viewed her as untouchable because she had a way of coming out completely unscathed from things, except this time she wasn't so lucky. This time she had been broken.

"Thank you," I heard her whisper and my eyebrows furrowed. I realized that this was the first thank you I had ever gotten from _her_. "And I'm sorry," The words floated into the air. Just as I heard them, I listened to her breathing even out. She was asleep, and I was stunned. Just what was she sorry for? I honestly didn't believe for a second that she was putting these past two years behind us, and besides, I wasn't ready to do that either. You couldn't just forget all the wrongs someone had done to you and move forward. And if you could, it was something that wasn't going to happen for us anyways. We had spent a great deal of our lives making the other person's a living hell and now we were supposed to be on the best of terms because of one tantalizing weekend? I'm sorry, but it doesn't work that way. But in the same way, I also did appreciate the apology. It signified to me that she was willing to make a change, willing to work on making things right. And although this couldn't be worked out tonight, I would try my best to let it go.

After staying with her long after she was asleep, I felt her hand slip away from mine. It seemed like I had been in almost a sleep-like state, just thinking about things. Somewhere in that half an hour her body had shifted closer to mine, her hand limply tangled into my curls. I was still kneeling on the floor, my head resting on the mattress just below her own. I lightly lifted my head from it's position, her hand sliding out of my hair to rest across her chest. She didn't seem to notice that she wasn't holding onto me anymore, she just seemed at peace. I watched her for a minute or two, her chest rising and falling, before I stood. I had told her I'd stay with her, and technically I had, but I still felt like I was breaking my promise.

Slowly, I pulled the covers back up and over her before leaving the room. My feet padded lightly on the stairs as I found myself walking down into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I found it stock full of food, unlike how it had been yesterday. Someone had been here. I played with the idea of making Lola something for breakfast since she had been through so much, but I didn't have a clue what she liked. So I pulled out the toast, the bacon, a few eggs, and turned on the television. Taking out a frying pan, I cracked the eggs into it, making them sunny side up. My attention was focused on making the food, right up until I was stunned again by a news report that I should have known was coming.

"Los Angeles Socialite, Lola Luftnagle has been reported missing," The reporter's voice came through the television set. I looked up, expecting to see pictures of her room trashed, just like mine was, but there was none.

"The eighteen year old was reported missing at about four am last night. After hearing the shocking story of Nate Gray's disappearance, Miss Luftnagle, a friend of Nate Gray opted to spend the night at her close friend Jason Gray's apartment. The police were called to the apartment by Jason Gray, who was also accompanied by his younger brother, Shane Gray. When police arrived on the scene and were able to get into the room where Lola Luftnagle was staying, she was no longer there. The investigation is still on going, and if anyone has any information, we've been asked to contact the Malibu police station. We've received no more word from police, and Mrs. Holly Luftnagle was unable to be contacted for a statement."

The story was pretty basic, but I knew there was more to it than that. There were eight hours between four am and now, and something had happened. That something I didn't know yet, but I was going to find out sooner or later. I was just afraid to find out what it was. I had already seen the effects of what it was, and I was wary to find out just what had caused it.

I was just putting the finishing touches on breakfast, or lunch rather, when I heard the footsteps on the stairs. Our plates were made with smiley face eggs and bacon, and there was regular toast and cinnamon toast on a separate plate. There were a stack of pancakes on one side of the table and I had cut up some fruit for the both of us too. I hadn't known if she would eat the eggs, so I opted for pancakes, since most people like those. Even if she didn't like pancakes, there was fruit, and I was sure that everyone in the world ate fruit, except maybe Jason.

"Morning," I smiled, setting two glasses of orange juice next to our plates and seating myself. "I made breakfast. I wasn't sure what you'd like so I made a bunch of stuff, I hope it's okay-"

"You said you'd stay," Was all she said as her feet touched the last step. She stopped, looking over at me, the disappointment clear on her face. My eyes shot down to my plate just so I wouldn't have to look at her and I shoved a piece of bacon into my mouth. I listened to her footsteps start up again and get closer and closer until the seat across from me screeched against the floor and she sat. I looked up at her, and her face was blank, looking over everything that was placed on the table.

"You made this?" She asked, and I nodded, "For me?" Her eyes looked up to mine and I swallowed the bacon. It didn't go down so good as it scratched the sides of my throat, my face grimacing as it did.

"Uh, yeah... I guess," I admitted. She grabbed a fork, cutting off a piece of her sunny side egg and taking a bite. I was relieved that she liked at least something I had made, otherwise it would have been a complete waste.

"Thank you," She told me. I couldn't believe I was hearing those words for the second time today. It was so unreal. I smiled lightly at her, lifting my head to look at her face and I found myself trying not to let the smile slip away. The bruise was still there, dark and ever present. It was almost looming over the table, a constant reminder that we were way in over our heads. We were in danger, no matter how much I tried to deny it. The two of us remained in a comfortable silence, eating what we could of the large buffet. I noticed that she had to eat extra slowly, her bruise irritating her and causing pain every time she would chew too quickly. God, how I wished I could just take it all away for her, so she wouldn't hurt anymore.

"Nate?" She whispered, breaking the silence. It occurred to me that she was calling me Nate, when she usually referred to me as Nathaniel. The edge and the hardness seemed to fade with this realization, and I looked up to meet her gaze.

"Yeah?" I asked, finishing the last bite of breakfast on my plate.

"How did you find me? Did they catch him?" She asked. I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering what she was talking about. I hadn't _found_ her. She had shown up in this place on her own accord. Then it hit me. She probably figured that I had brought her here, that I had saved her from him. My heart tightened and my stomach dropped, almost wishing that I had; almost wishing I could be considered her hero. Instead, she had been sucked in by this false sense of reality. She thought she was at my house, somewhere that was familiar to her. She thought she was safe, but she wasn't.

"I- Uh- No, Lola, they didn't catch him," I admitted and her shoulders dropped. I took a deep breath, trying to prepare to tell her that she was still missing, but the television that I'd left on beat me too it. Through the silence, it announced and update on the both of us, claiming that we were both still missing. When I caught her eyes again, she looked confused.

"But we're here," She mumbled to herself, her eyebrows furrowing. I reached my hand across the table to grab hers, but she retracted immediately. Her eyes stared into mine and she looked absolutely hurt, as if I had crushed her. It was almost a look asking me why I'd let her believe that she was okay, a look that told me I had better explain and quick.

"Lola, it's- ugh," I let out a low breath, "It's so complicated."

"Explain," She narrowed her eyes at me. Whatever niceness we had been sharing had been lost and she reverted back to the same old Lola we all know, and _some_ love. That some didn't include me as if it weren't already obvious. I sighed, leaning back in my seat and trying to put my thoughts together. How would I explain this to her? It had already been hard enough for me to grasp on my own, and I still wasn't even fully believing it.

"Alright, in a nutshell, this isn't my house," I told her. I grabbed the remote off the middle of the table and changed the channel to the ones that I had thought showed my family's reality show. "That is." I spoke, changing the channels. The house seemed empty, which was normal since everyone had stayed somewhere other than home last night. As I changed the channels, once I came to the driveway, it showed a car I recognized as my parents pulling up. Lola's head immediately twisted towards the front doorway, waiting for them to come through, but they never did. She looked confused, and she snapped her head back to me, wincing lightly as the pain. She shot a questioning look to me, and I stood from the table. I grabbed her hand, she was too stunned to pull away, and I guided her towards the front door.

"The front door doesn't open," I told her, tugging on the doorknob for effect, "And the windows aren't really there." When I pulled away the curtains next to the front door, there was a lifelike picture of what would have been my front lawn. I unlocked the latches, and pushed the window up. Along with the window, the picture went up, and it revealed long industrial light bulbs that light up, making us believe the sunlight was shining through. When I glanced back at her face, she looked shocked, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"My parents room is locked too, so is Jason's and Frankie's. I don't even think there's a room behind those doors." I admitted, leaning against the wall. Lola was just staring at the window, which was still pushed up to reveal the light bulbs. "Basically, he's trapped us here."

"But... what?" She asked softly, looking up to me. All I could do was nod. "We're trapped?" Her breaths became shorter, and she pressed herself up against the wall opposite me, trying to steady herself. It almost looked like she was about to hyperventilate. I pushed myself away from the wall I had been leaning on, and took a step closer to her. Placing my hands onto her shoulder, I dipped my head down to catch her gaze. She looked terrified.

"Lola," I asked, scrunching up my forehead, "What- what happened? What'd he do to you?" She didn't answer me, all she did was break down into tears. She wrapped her arms around herself, her head turning away from me to look down at the wood floors. I heard her hiccup, and it jump started me into action. In a moments time, I pulled her up against me, her head burrowing into my chest as my arms wrapped around her body. One arm was wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her in place, the other trailing up and down her back as I rested my head atop her own.

"You're alright," I whispered to her, my heart clenching, "You've got me, okay? And I won't ever let you go." It felt natural, and yet so unordinary. It left me without anything to say, but so much to think about. But the only idea that I could really grasp was that despite two years of rivalry, this just felt right to me.

**A/N: When I was writing this, I kept listening to _Tonight_ and _Kung-Fu Grip_ over and over. They remind me of this story. So, tell me what you thought of A Little Bit Longer, and tell me which songs, if any (They don't have to be JB), remind you of this story. ABY is actually named after a song, so maybe you guys should google it and give it a listen. Oh, and would you like to see other POVs other than Lilly and Nate, to show what's going on outside the house? Or should that be portrayed through the cameras set up in Nate's real house? Anyways, tell me what you liked and didn't like, any feedback is appreciated. Also, I'm looking for someone to proofread future chapters. For more info, see my profile, and please _PM_ if your interested. I'm going to try and have another chapter out before school starts next week. Review!**


	9. Chapter 9: Lilly

Anyone But You

**A/N: Woo. Quick update. Anyways, thank Parakeet17 for this, because I wanted to update and wish her a happy belated 14****th**** birthday. Much thank yous to all reviewers, anyways, Enjoy!**

Anyone But You

Chapter Nine

I couldn't move or speak, or do anything but live. It was almost as if I was paralyzed, feeling every motion going on around me but not being able to do a thing about it. I had no idea where I had already been, or where I was heading, all I knew was that I wasn't safe. I could still feel the icy touches on my skin and a stinging tingle beneath my eyes. I could feel the fear and my heart beating faster than it ever should. Frozen in place, my mind was racing. I wanted to scream, and cry, and pray that this would all end. I was begging, just begging to die because I didn't want to wake up and find out exactly where I was. I didn't want to endure more torture just to die in the end anyways. Even if I did live, I didn't want to with the guilt on my shoulders, just knowing he didn't make it.

I could feel the breeze on my skin, and I heard the slamming of doors. Fingers were making imprints on my arms and the crinkle of plastic was present in my ears. My chest was rising and falling steadily, my lungs taking over and breathing involuntarily because I couldn't. I just wanted them to stop, to give out and let me choke. I wanted to be able to hold my own breath until I couldn't breath anymore. I didn't want to give him, the killer, the satisfaction of knowing he was about to end my life. I wanted to fight, and if I could end it myself then he wouldn't be able to. He wouldn't win.

There was a smooth coldness pressing against me from all angles, swallowing me up as I listened for the sound of a zipper. I was limp, unable to move, and yet I still knew what was happening. I was in a body bag. Did he think I was dead already? Had the police come and thought I wasn't living anymore? I think in that minute, I was most afraid of being buried alive. Afraid of never seeing my family again, my friends. I was afraid I would never apologize to Nick for wishing he was dead. It was almost like I had gotten my wish now, and I was dying along with him. What had we gotten ourselves into?

For a while there was nothing. Silence and the constant feeling of being enveloped. I was worried that I would suffocate surrounded by this plastic bag, but I didn't. I always had just enough air to fill my lungs. Just enough air to gasp on, and to sputter. At least if my breathing was involuntarily, I couldn't hyperventilate, I couldn't take in more air than I needed. I was at least grateful for that. The fact that I was temporarily paralyzed was saving my life right now, keeping my body in a calm state while my mind did the panicking.

I still couldn't comprehend where I was. The scene in Jason's guest room was on repeat in my mind, and if I could do anything at all, I would be crying. The terror was still resting in my soul, and I wanted to shake. God, what had I ever done to deserve this? Where was everyone when I needed them most? I couldn't even imagine not making it out of this. I had had so many plans, so many goals for my future. Then again, I imagined Nate did too. Was he dead already? Had they already offed him? The thought sent me into even more panic than I had already been in. This was all my fault. I wish we had been on better terms. I wish I told him I was sorry, and I wish I had thanked him for being there for me when I needed him Friday night. I could only hope that the police, Jason, someone would find my clue. I could only hope someone would justify our deaths and catch the guy.

Suddenly I could hear voices around me. There was shuffling, and telephones ringing. People were chattering as if nothing was happening and I couldn't understand why. I couldn't understand why no one was jumping to help me. Didn't they care? Did they even see me? Did they know I was here, that I was alive? Why were so many people awake, and chatty in the middle of the night? Perhaps it was much later than I thought it was. Was I missing something? Had I blacked out for much longer than I thought I had?

Again I heard the slam of a door and I felt myself being dragged down a staircase. Inside I was screaming, trying to endure the pain of my head slamming against the steps over and over again. They were concrete stairs, I could tell. The smell of wherever I was hit my nostrils and it was cold and dank. My heart was almost pushing out of my chest with each beat as my body was pulled along the floor. The bag was scraping against the concrete and I began to get some of the motion back into my body. My eyelids slowly slid open and I found myself shrouded in darkness. There was nothing, so I let them close again. I remained silent, hoping and pleading that maybe they thought I was dead already. Maybe they would leave me here, thinking they had finished me off. Then I could make my escape, I could attempt to get out and live as just plain Lilly for the rest of my life. Why hadn't I thought of that in the first place? They weren't looking for _Lilly_. But then again, I couldn't just leave Nate. I couldn't shove this all on his plate and make him face it alone. We had to stick together, to help each other, and I would never be able to live with myself if I hadn't tried to protect him from this.

I felt the zip of the zipper against my skin undoing and revealing myself to whoever was above me. I could see the faint light of the room beneath my eyelids, but I didn't dare to move. I could feel fingers pressing against my skin once again, pulling me from the bag and gripping me much too tight. The upper half of my body was being lifted, but my legs still skidded across the cement floor. I felt the skin on the back of my legs being scratched by the coarse cement, the skin peeling off and scraping. I could feel the blood pulsing through my veins, and seeping out through the cuts on my legs.

They were talking again. Instead of the chatter, I could hear two distinct voices. I recognized one of the men's voices, but I had no idea where from. I couldn't understand much of what they were saying, but I knew they were talking about me. Nate's name came up and my body tightened immediately. I strained to listen, just hoping they would give me some inclination that he was still alive. I needed to know he was alive and I needed to know he was okay. I tried to focus, shuffling quietly closer to them. As soon as I moved, I felt the pain shooting up from every area of my body. I wanted to moan, to groan, to let out a breath, but I knew how costly it could be.

I shuffled again, listening. I heard them say that Nate was "taken care of" already, and I wanted to cry out, my suspicions confirmed. My head immediately leaned back, my eyes feeling that familiar sting beneath them. Every pain in my body vanished then, and all I could feel was my heart racing, beating twice as fast for the beats his heart would never beat again. My breathing was quicker, breathing every breath he had lost. All I cared about then was him, what I had selfishly put him through. I felt like a murderer, I felt like I had killed him. It made me want to die, because if I had cost him his life, the least I could give was my own.

There was movement again around me, and I was afraid to open my eyes. I was afraid to see who my captors were, afraid to see where I would be for the last minutes of my young life. I squeezed my eyes tighter, not for a moment thinking it made me seem overly obvious. I could feel an icy chill on my neck as one of the men breathed over me. I could feel his eyes on my body, watching me closely as I tried to relax, to not give myself away. It was difficult, and I pressed on, trying be unnoticeable. I wanted to sink into the cement below me, to disappear and to cease existing. I wanted to become invisible to them and they're leering eyes.

I felt a slam into my ribs, and I almost doubled over in pain. The breath was knocked out of me momentarily, and my eyes squeezed shut tighter. My mouth was wide, gasping at the air but I couldn't suck anything in. I couldn't breath, and I felt another slam into my side. When I regained my breath, I leaned my head back down onto the cement, breathing deeply and intently, trying to taking in all the air I could. I forgot all about these two men for just a few seconds, focusing on my lungs as they filled and then emptied again, repeating the process.

"Wake the fuck up," Another slam to my temple, one I recognized immediately. I had familiarized myself with the feeling back in Jason's apartment. It was the feeling of a gun being whipped against my head, snapping it to the side. My breath caught in my throat, my eyes opening slowly. I panted into the air, trying to keep my lungs rising and falling at a steady rate and trying to keep all the pain in check. Whatever I had endured back at the apartment was apparently nothing compared to what I had in store for me here.

My eyes teared up as I turned my head back to it's previous position. There was a man kneeling next to me, gun in hand, but his voice wasn't the one I found so familiar. Catching a glance at him, I recognized his face clearly. It was the face in my nightmares, the one I had seen down that cold alleyway Friday night. I wanted to move, to run, to back up away from him but I couldn't. I was frozen with fear, and the pain that he had caused in my side was stunning me still. He had me trapped here, laying on a cold, grey, cement floor. This was it.

His hand gripped my arm, pulling me up to my feet. It was clear to me that he was much stronger than I was and I would never be able to fight him off. My body was smashed into the wall after that, his own pressing up against me menacingly. I felt his skin collide with my own and it made me sick. My shirt was balled up into his fist, holding me against the wall. It reminded me of the way I'd seen so many jocks hold so many of the 'nerds' against the walls at school. However at school there was always a principal, or a teacher to stop anything. Even if there wasn't, it never got as serious as the situation I was in right now. It never seemed so tantalizing.

I felt blood against my neck, the red tangles of the wig sticking to it as I moaned. I was cut short, my head crashing back into the wall again. I snapped my mouth shut, silencing myself, and willing myself to come around. Everything was fuzzy and hazy, and I couldn't concentrate. The pressure against my chest suddenly disappeared, and when I raised my eyes up, the man was gone too. I lifted my hand, pressing it to the side of my head and trying to steady myself. When I pulled my hand away, there was red dripping off my fingers, and I stared at it. It was so incomprehensible, like this all wasn't really happening. It felt like a dream and I wanted to wake up so so badly.

"Lola Luftnagle, isn't it?" A voice mocked me. I lifted my eyes, looking into eyes I could remember well. My own eyes narrowed as I glared at the figure. He knew full well who I was.

"Fuck you," I spat, wobbling on my own legs. I had trusted this person, and everyone around me had too. How had I been so stupid?

"That's no way to speak to me, is it?" He asked, a smiling playing on his lips. His shoes tapped against the floor as he moved closer towards me. The man who had hit me before was slinking off to the side, watching carefully. He had committed a murder, but yet now he was choosing to slink away? Cowardice, isn't it? Couldn't he just follow through already and save me the trouble. Might as well aim his gun already and pull the goddamn trigger.

I ignored the words that floated through the cold air, choosing not to respond. My eyes said it all as they narrowed dangerously into slits. I followed his path towards me, my gaze never leaving his. I knew he knew exactly what I was saying. I knew there wasn't any confusion between us. He had manipulated us all, used us for information. To serve and _protect?_ Lies. I was being anything but protected right now, I was being tortured.

He walked closer and closer to me, passing the various filing cabinets. Finally, his footsteps stopped, and so did he when he stood right up against me. His chest pressed against mine, and he looked down on me like I was nothing more than dirt. Did he have no value of human life? Didn't he realize I was a person, and not something to play around with. My thoughts were cut short and my mouth let out a gasp. His calloused hand was pressed up against my hip, playing with the ends of my shirt. His fingers danced dangerously against my skin, pushing my tank top higher up. His hands gripped my side, right near my rib, and I cried out in pain. He pressed deeper into the bruise, finding some sort of sick satisfaction in the pain it caused me. Without another notice, the pressure disappeared, and his face was next to mine, his breath against my neck.

"Did you know your not in the records?" He whispered threateningly. His fingers trailing back down my side and hooking themselves just underneath the waistband of my shorts. I pressed my eyes closed, trying not to cry. "Lola Luftnagle doesn't exist, did you know that?" He asked me again, his breath cold and menacing. He was speaking almost as if he knew that I knew something he didn't. I could tell he wanted information from me, but I wasn't going to give in, not if I was going to die anyways.

"You better fucking answer me," He spat, his face coming back to look at me, "Open your eyes, damnit." He spoke, and immediately I obeyed. His face was right up close to mine and his eyes darted between my own, searching for answers. I stayed still and quiet, barely breathing as I watched him intently. I wanted to cry, but I needed more than ever to stay strong.

"I'm not telling you anything," The words slipped from my lips. He looked outraged, but didn't move even a centimeter from me. The both of us stood there, neither moving, or speaking, just watching each other. His eyes were flickering with something unknown to me, something I hadn't seen before. I felt his hands tighten against my hips, gripping them and pulling me off the wall. I was jerked away by the sudden movement, my body crashing into his. I tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let me, he just held me there against my will.

"Don't touch me," I seethed, my breath mingling with his. His lips just painted a malicious smile, and he didn't even move to release me.

"I've been watching you," He informed me, pulling me even closer, "You're quite the character." I hardly registered what he was saying. The only thing that caught itself in my train of thought was that I had been a target much longer than I had suspected. I had been a target and I had brought Nate into this. He wasn't part of it, but I had foolishly made him a part of it. God, this is all my fault.

"I've already told you, you're beautiful," He whispered, his face inching closer to mine, "and you're so stubborn," He added. Before I knew what was happening, he was pushing his lips on my own forcefully. I tried to scream, and my hands found his chest, attempting to push him away. I pushed harder and harder, put he forced his own body against mine, slamming me against the wall. A crack rang out, and I was sure that it was my own bones breaking. I couldn't push him away, and so I did the only thing I could think to do. His mouth was on mine, so I bit his lip, hard, pressing down until I tasted blood.

"Fucking cunt," He yelled, pulling away from me. I struggled to breath and watched as he placed his hand up to his lip. When he saw the blood on his own fingers, he looked back to up to me, snarling. His hand reached up, slapping me across the face. His own breathing was ragged, as he turned around, bringing his hands back to his lips. I spat the blood from my own mouth and onto the ground, straightening up. Neither men were watching me anymore.

"Where's Nate?" I shouted. One of the men looked over his shoulder, but didn't give me a second glance, "Where is he?!" I yelled again, to a point of breaking down. The man I recognized from the alleyway whirled away, took a step towards me and smacked me in the face with his gun. When I kept quiet, he turned back around, discussing something with the second man. They were talking about something for a few minutes, until they both immediately shut up. I could hear footsteps coming down the stairs, and apparently so could they. The 'leader' of the two, jerked his head towards me, and the alley man came to my side, pulling me into a row of filing cabinets and pressing me into them. He had his hand over my mouth, and another digging into my arm. I whimpered lightly, but other than that, I didn't make a sound.

I listened as the room's door opened, and light footsteps padded inside. "Hey, Officer Miller," A voice said and I nearly jumped. I screamed beneath the man's hand, trying to redirect the attention to myself. I knew that voice so well. It was Oliver. But I had to question what the hell Oliver was doing here. Was he in on this? I couldn't let myself believe that my best friend since preschool was plotting with these men to murder me.

"My mom wanted me to grab some files. She's working on the Gray's case. Apparently some new information came up." That's when I knew. Ollie had mentioned he was interning with Mrs. Oken at the police station. Apparently thats where I was right now, in the files room. I screamed again, and the hand pressed tighter against me. I felt the barrel of a gun pressing against my temple again, and I quieted immediately.

"If you make another noise," The man breathed quietly, "I swear to God, I'll blow yours and this kid's head off." He spoke. I silenced myself. I couldn't do that to Ollie. I'd already put Nate in a compromised position, and I would under no circumstances do it to my best friend.

"I'll get them for you," A voice who I could now call Officer Miller spoke. He rounded the rows of filling cabinets, grabbing out a dark blue folder with a handful of papers inside. He came back to Oliver, handing him the folder and ruffling the hair on his head. I could tell Oliver wouldn't appreciate it, after all, he was eighteen now.

"And my mom wants to talk to you, too," Oliver spoke, and Officer Miller stiffened, "Something about Nate Gray's disappearance being connected to Lola Luftnagle's," He said. When he spoke the name of my alter ego, I could hear his voice lowering, almost as if he couldn't bare to say it. At least I knew that someone was missing me, that someone was missing _Lilly_ and not just Lola.

"Sure thing, kiddo," Miller spoke playfully, a tone he hadn't bothered to use on me. The only thing he spoke to me with was malice in his voice and lust in his eyes. It made me sick to my stomach to even remember the icy trails his fingers had left on me. It was something I was sure I would never forget. I heard the door shut again in the distance and I knew that Oliver was gone. The hand on my mouth disappeared, and I was shoved from the row back into the open. Miller was standing there, arms crossed against his chest and shaking his head towards me.

"You got lucky this time," He muttered, and nodded his head towards the other guy, "You know what to do," He told him. I watched as Miller opened the door, retreating to the main level of the Malibu police station to talk with my best friends mother about my own case. I let it slip my mind for a moment that I was still in danger, here with this other man, but by the time I realized it, I was out cold yet again, seeing nothing but the darkness surrounding me.

When I finally came around again, I was still somewhat out of it. I could feel softness beneath me, so I knew I couldn't still be laying on the cold cement floor. There were blankets pulled around me, closing me in and I felt almost like I couldn't breath. Still half asleep, I shuffled around, throwing them away from myself. They reminded me too much of the tightness of the body bag. For a moments time, I was worried that I was back in the plastic, but this was all too comfortable. There was shuffling around me and I squeezed my eyes together, breathing deeply. I was so disorientated that I couldn't place where the noises were coming from. I heard my alter ego's name being called lightly, and I felt a light touch on my skin. It didn't have the icy feel of my captors, but it still brought me right back into that memory. I couldn't help but to release a low pained moan as I willed my eyes to open. I could feel every part of my body, tingling and stabbing, aching all over. The touch on my arm dissipated, but moments later, the warmth was pressing against my temple. I squinted my eyes, opening them slowly and meeting the light. My eyes danced around the room, wondering just where I was exactly. It wasn't a place I had any memories of, but yet I still felt so safe here.

"Lola? Hey..." A voice called to me. My eyes shot down to the figure kneeling next to my bed. He wore a comforting smile on his face, and I couldn't help but look confused. I felt his fingers brush away a few irritating strands of hair from my eyes as I looked up at him. I processed the curls, the eyes I knew so well, and then I spoke, hoping to god my eyes weren't decieving me.

"Nate?" I questioned. When I spoke, my voice didn't even sound like my own. I sounded weak and defeated, mirroring the emotions that were swirling beneath the surface. I watched his eyes and he looked so concerned. His hands brushed back more loose strands from my face and then he answered me back.

"Yeah," He said, "It's me." Relieved, I turned my head, pressing it into the pillow, trying to get comfortable. Immediately, I pulled away, letting out a breath. My face stung, and I was met with flashes of exactly why. I couldn't count the number of times I had been whipped in the face with a pistol. Of course, Miller's slap to my cheek would have added to whatever bruise I was sure was forming there. I raised my hand to cover my face, trying to ease away the pain, but I felt a touch that wasn't my own. He was there, watching me, the feeling of his skin on mine taking away all the hurt.

"Your okay," He told me. I reached my hand up, covering his with my own and silently thanking him for the gesture. I nuzzled my face against his hand, and looked up to him. That's when it hit me exactly who was next to me, and a smile spread across my face. I had thought he was dead, since he had been 'taken care of'. I couldn't even explain how glad I was to have him here with me; how happy I was to see his face.

"You don't know," I breathed, nuzzling his hand with my face once again and letting my eyes close, "You don't know how afraid I was." The familiar sting was resting beneath my eyes and I felt them begin to water. It was like a dream to have him alive and well in front of me. How I had ever let anything happen to him was beyond me, and I knew I could never loose him again.

"I was afraid you were dead," I confessed. He looked shocked to hear it, and I realized why. Before now all he had ever known from me was hate, and even I couldn't deny that. I don't think he realized just how much a part of my life he was and how truly important a role he played. He was my stability, my reassurance. He was the one thing I could always count on. For a while, he didn't say anything at all. My hand pressed tighter against his and my eyes darted between his, trying to read his emotions. Did he care that I cared? Had I treated him wrongly for so long that he discarded every word I was saying? Did he think I was lying?

"You should get some rest," He told me. I could feel myself growing tired, but I didn't want to sleep. Every time I did, I woke up someplace else, and I couldn't risk it. I couldn't risk winding up on the filing room floor of Malibu PD again. I didn't want to go through it all over, and I didn't want to know what what happen if I hadn't gotten 'lucky' that time.

"I don't want to," I pleaded, worried. I felt his hand sliding out from under mine, but I held onto him tighter. I didn't want to be alone, to be vulnerable anymore. I didn't want him to leave me because he made me feel safe here.

"Just rest, okay? I'll be downstairs if you need me," He told me. Immediately I shook my head, trying to protest. I didn't want to be left alone. I watched him deeply, trying to convey every emotion to him. I tried to tell him how much I wanted him here.

"Don't leave me," I cried, "He'll come back for me and- and," I confided my worst fears in him. I didn't even want to finish the sentence. I had a vague idea of how far things could have gotten back on that cold floor. I was more than willing to bet that a forceful kiss wouldn't cut it for Officer Miller. I didn't want to go back there, and I didn't want him to touch me again. Already, I felt so used, so disgusting. The feeling of his hands over my skin was still ever present, a feeling I couldn't seem to loose. Unconsciously, my fingers reached up to play with the scratches he had left along my stomach. I hadn't even realized I was crying until Nate's hand came up to brush a tear from my cheek.

"I'll stay," He spoke softly, resting his head near mine on the bed. He turned his head away from me, watching the doorway protectively. Quietly, I played with his fingers as our hands still remained intertwined.

"He's never going to touch you again, okay?" His voice lingered in the air, "I promise you that." When he spoke the words, I felt so comforted. I had always prided myself on being strong and independent, but I couldn't help but be so grateful that he was willing to be my protector.

"Thank you," I whispered, voicing the words I was thinking, "And I'm sorry." I told him, telling him what I'd thought I would never get the chance to. Once I said it, I let myself relax, but I didn't sleep. My eyes slipped closed, and my breathing evened out, but I was too afraid to let myself really, truly rest. I inched closer, shuffling towards him. My head now rested much closer to his own and I could smell how amazing he smelt. It was something that played on my mind, making me loose track of time. Automatically, and rhythmically, my fingers threaded through his curls, calming me even more so. After a short while, I allowed the steady noise of his breathing lull me into sleep, and in a way, I embraced it.

When I awoke again for the third time that day, I noticed something immediately. The comforting presence next to me was no longer there. Panicked, I sat up immediately, wincing at the pain in my stomach and sides. My arms shot around my waist and I groaned, as the pain pulled through me. I groaned, and let the pain subside before I tried to move again. I pulled the covers away from me, wondering for a moments time how they had gotten there again in the first place, and placed my feet firmly on the floor. When I stood, I used the wall to steady myself, walking towards the doorway. When I neared the door of the room, I caught myself in the reflection of the wall's mirror. I swallowed a lump in my throat, seeing the large black splotch cascading down my face. My stomach lurched, and so did the memories as they came to the front of my mind. After watching myself for a moment and realizing that these marks were here to stay, I let myself wander into the hallway. When I came into the long room, I recognized it in two seconds flat. I was in the Grays's house and I was safe. Still holding the wall, I reached the stairs. I transferred my balance to the railing and guided myself down slowly.

"Morning," I heard a voice call out, "I made breakfast. I wasn't sure what you'd like so I made a bunch of stuff, I hope it's okay-" I cut him off. He was sitting at the table, a huge array of food spread out in front of him. A smile played on his lips, but I didn't return it.

"You said you'd stay," I spoke. My feet touched the last step lightly, and I felt somewhat weightless. There was betrayal and disappointment written all over my eyes. I had expected him to be there when I opened my eyes again, I had expected him to remind me that I was okay. My heart was sinking, and fast, giving me an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. But seeing him here now, made at least some of those feelings fade. Even if he hadn't reassured me when I woke, he had made me breakfast so I'd have something to eat. He had done something nice for me.

Slowly, my feet padded over and I watched his eyes shoot down to his plate. He stuffed his mouth with bacon, mostly because he didn't want to answer me. It almost made me smile at the look he gave, almost like he didn't want to disappoint me.

"You made this?" He nodded, "For me?" My eyes were scanning over everything, hardly believing it. He had made me everything just so I would have something I liked.

"Uh yeah... I guess," He admitted. I grabbed a fork, taking a bite of the egg in front of me. I would have laughed at the smiley faced plates, but I didn't have the heart.

"Thank you," I thanked him genuinely and he smiled at me. I figured I should start saying it more often. I still couldn't believe he had done this all for me even when I'd treated him so horribly. Then there was silence. The both of us ate our breakfast's, no words needing to be exchanged between us.

"Nate?" I asked, his head raised.

"Yeah?" He responded. I took a deep breath, voicing my concern.

"How did you find me? Did they catch him?" I asked. I figured that if I was in his house, someone had found me. Someone must've saved me from them. The only logical explanation was that it had been him, and I was forever grateful. I just hoped to God they had caught one of them in the act so they would pay. They would pay for what they put me through, for whatever they had done to Nate.

"I- Uh- No, Lola, they didn't catch him," He confessed, and I was immediately saddened. There was silence for a moment until the television caught my attention. It was speaking, telling us that I was still missing and so was he. The concept didn't make sense to me, considering we were sitting safely in his house, eating breakfast as his table.

"But we're here..." The words escaped my lips, and I furrowed my brows. I felt Nate's hand on my own and automatically pulled away. I felt lied to, like none of this was real. My eyes bore into his, still confused.

"Lola, it's- ugh," He breathed, "It's so complicated." My eyes immediately narrowed, shooting daggers at him. What did he know that I didn't?

"Explain," It was direct and forceful, something I was used to using with him.

"Alright, in a nutshell, this isn't my house," He spoke, grabbing a remote off the table and switching the television's channel, "This is." On the tv, different areas of his house were being displayed. Had he wired his house or something. I furrowed my eyebrows as it cut to a scene for a few seconds of the kitchen, yet we weren't there. He let it rest on a picture of his driveway, and I watched his parents car pull in. Immediately I looked to the front door, waiting for them to enter, but they never did. I looked back to him, confused, and wincing at the pain in my face. I ran my eyes over him as he stood from the table, grabbing my hand and leading me to the front entrance. We stopped there and he began to explain.

"The front door doesn't open," He jiggled the knob, "And the windows aren't really there." My eyes were focused on him as he stripped away the curtains, pushing up the window and revealing light bulbs to me. I could hardly believe my eyes as I just stared at it, shocked.

"My parents room is locked too, so is Jason and Frankie's. I don't even think there's a room behind those doors." I hardly heard a word he said. I vaguely recall him leaning up against the wall, but still, I couldn't pull myself away from the window. "Basically, he's trapped us here." That snapped me into attention, as he voiced the same feeling I'd felt back in the Malibu PD filing room.

"But... what?" I looked up to him, he nodded, "We're trapped?" It confirmed the worst for me. The floor began to sink beneath me and I felt like I was going to give away. I leaned against the wall for support and I felt myself begin to panic again. I couldn't breath, and the world was spinning, sending me spiraling downwards. Oh god, oh god. I was trapped. I felt hands on my shoulder, and then Nick's face clouded my vision.

"Lola," He asked, "What- what happened? What'd he do to you?" The memories came flooding back and I couldn't keep this strong facade up any longer. The tears spilled down, and I felt his arms wrap around me, comforting me as I relived the moments. They flashed against my eyes, the scrapes, the slams, the sickening feeling of Miller's lips on mine. All Nick did was rub my back, make me feel safe in a place where I knew I shouldn't let my guard down. He could come for me again at any time, whenever I least expected it, or whenever he wanted to. He could take me away again in the night and no one would ever know.

"You're alright," He whispered to me gently, "You've got me, okay? And I won't ever let you go." Silence settled between us for a few moments, until I couldn't bare it anymore. I wanted to tell him, I wanted to let him in.

"Oh god," I cried, digging my head into his chest, "I don't-," And the tears continued down my face. I couldn't even manage to say it. It scared me enough to watch the scenes replay, but I didn't want to voice them. Voicing it only made it that much more real.

"I don't want to go back there," I whispered into the fabric of his simple white t-shirt. I felt our bodies move side to side as he rocked us, trying to calm me down. It worked, and slowly my breathing returned to normal, my heart beating at a more natural speed. His arm slid from around my shoulder and I felt his warm, gentle touch move down my arm. He pulled my fists from his shirt, and into his own hands, still rocking us gently. He dipped his head lower, and I felt his breath against my cheek. The relieved the pain of the bruise, and I pressed my head against his chest again. I didn't want him to let me go, because he made me feel like everything was going to be alright.

I felt a tug against my hand, and I let him lead me up the stairs. I slowly follow, looking over my shoulder fearfully after ever few steps. We reached the top, and he pulled me into the first room; his. Or rather, it wasn't really his room, was it? We stood in the center of the room for a minute, and then he detached himself from me, turning to shut the door. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around myself again, as somewhat of a protection, but I realized I didn't need it when he pulled me right back to him.

"Tell me," He whispered to me, placing a soft kiss to my forehead. My mind reeled, and I couldn't help but be reminded of the other kiss I'd endured today. It was something I didn't want to remember.

"I can't," I breathed, latching myself onto him tighter.

"Please," He pleaded, "What'd he do to you?" He pulled his head back, casting me a serious look. His touch traced the bruise on my face, and I leaned into it.

"They hit me," I slipped, my eyes sliding shut. I felt him stiffen, and I suddenly opened my eyes, furrowing them.

"They?" He questioned. My eyes closed again, and I nodded against his touch.

"Yeah," I spoke quietly, afraid that they would be listening, "They hit me… with their guns. Over and over," I sniffled. His arms wound around me, and he hugged me. He lost the seriousness in his eyes, and I could see the guilt. It was the same guilt that I felt over not being able to help him, to save him when I thought he'd been dead.

"He tried to kiss me," I cried. Nate Pulled away again, his eyes searching mine. He looked stunned, unable to believe what he was hearing. His hands were gripping my arms with a sense of protection, but he wasn't hurting me.

"He what?" He spat, anger in his eyes, "Did he do anything else to you?" I shook my head, "Do you swear to me, he didn't do anything else?" I could only nod. I thought it was obvious that he had touched my skin, the hand print bruises proof of it, and Nate could see that. The both of us only watched each other, Nate seething, and myself terrified. Our moment was cut short, a bang from the main floor interrupting us. We shared a look, and Nate tore away from me. He reached for the bedroom door, pulling it open.

"I'll kill him," He grumbled, on edge. Before I could stop him, he had flown out into the hallway, leaving me alone in his room. I moved after him, trying to catch him before he put himself in a terrible situation. I couldn't loose him, because if there was anything in this world that I needed now, it was him.

**A/N: I hope the chapter was good. It seems I have no questions for you guys. Tell me what you liked, and if you think the change of feelings doesn't seem too sudden. Review please! Ps. I love long reviews.**


	10. Chapter 10: Nate

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for the reviews. It seems I'm on a writing... spree? I don't know, but this story has been on my mind so much. I've got a couple exciting things planned for the next two chapters, which may or may not include a _Nilly kiss_. Tell me your thoughts on that via review, please. Anyways, again, thank you so, so much for the reviews. If I'm still on my writing kick, those two chapters might possibly be out before I go back to school Tuesday. Ps. Reviews help my writing kick. ;) **

**Disclaimer: I haven't added this in a while. So I don't own. This applies for any future chapters too, kay?**

Anyone But You

Chapter Ten

My mind was racing, my body shaking, my heart beating. Everything seemed to be on pause and all I could do was concentrate on what she was telling me. All I could do was let the anger build, and wait for it to bubble over. She was crying, digging her head further into my chest. My heart was beating for her and only her in that minute and everything I did was for this one girl. Her tears were setting bells of in my head, as I instinctively pulled her a bit closer to me. How had it all come to this?

Every time I saw another bruise, another scratch, I couldn't help but to suck in a breath. I didn't know how anyone could do this to someone. How could someone deliberately hurt her? In all my life, I don't think I ever wanted to cry more than I did in that moment. She was hysterical, almost catatonic. I just wanted to make it all go away for her, to make her forget. God, I had taken everything I had ever had for granted. All the times I had seen her smile from across the room, or when she'd be laughing with my brothers before she realized I was there. I just wanted to see her happy again, to see her laughing, to even see her angry with me. At least if she was pulling pranks she was laughing at me. At least if she was fighting with me she had that fire in her eyes. But now there was nothing. Nothing but these tears that I couldn't stand to see anymore, not from her.

"Oh god," Her voice was sending chills down my spine. My eyes were stinging, my shoulders tense. Something was settling in me, and I wasn't sure that I liked it. The way she sounded, the fear, the anguish just set something off. There was a giant pressure weighing on me, and I hung onto her words, waiting.

"I don't- I don't want to go back there," She whispered. I could feel her breath on my skin, my body erupting in tingles. Her tears were stinging through my shirt, piercing my heart in the deepest of places. This was all wrong, so wrong. Everything around me was disappearing except her. Nothing mattered right now except her. She was all I was concerned about, the only thought on my mind. Right now, she was what I lived for.

My body began to rock, bringing hers along with me. Her breathing was ragged, and I could almost feel her heartbeat pounding in time with mine. We were connected, trying to pull through this together, with each other to lean on. She needed me now, and I would always be there for her. Whether or not I could protect her I didn't know, but I would try if it cost me my life. Slowly, she calmed in my arms but still didn't pull away. I turned my head, glancing up the stairs for a moment before making a decision. My hands trailed down her arms, leaving me with pins and needles every time I touched her. My t-shirt was in her hands and her hands were balled into fists. I pried her hands from her hold on me, lacing my fingers through them instinctively and bringing them to our sides. I dipped my head just a tad lower, bringing it to her bruise. I almost wanted to kiss her cheek then, the phrase 'kiss it better' coming to mind. I shook it away though when she pressed her head harder against my chest. When she was this close to me it made me believe for a second that maybe things really would be alright.

I pulled away from her though and she didn't seem to notice. She was standing in front of me, head down, and I couldn't help but stare at her. Her red hair was all over, her face black on one half. Her clothes were messy and wrinkled, along with her eyes being puffy and red. Yet with all these flaws I didn't notice one. I saw someone that was broken, someone that didn't deserve this for even a second. She deserved to be safe and at home. I couldn't even imagine what was causing her to react this way. If the guy had laid a finger on her, it would be the last finger he ever laid on anyone. I would see to it personally that he paid for what he'd put her through.

Reluctantly, I tugged away from her, pulling her upstairs. I wanted to stay connected to her, to hold her, to make her feel safe. Instead, I lead her up the steps to where my identical bedroom was, bringing her inside. I let go of her hand, and as quickly as I could I shut the door. When I turned back around, she had her arms wrapped around herself. God, she just looked so... I couldn't even describe the look on her face. It broke my heart into a million pieces. This, combined by the feeling of needing to be close to her, made me pull her right back into my arms. It made me pull her right back to where she belonged; here, with me.

"Tell me," I spoke gently to her. I lowered my head, softly touching my lips to her forehead, trying to calm her down. I wanted to make everything okay, to kiss it better for her. I felt her tense and my eyebrows scrunched up. God, how stupid could I be? I may have been what she needed now, but I had obviously pushed it a bit far with the kiss. I swear, I wasn't trying anything. I would never, not with her like this. It wasn't the time or the place, and I wasn't the person for her either. She had hated me for so many years, and I already knew how weird it would be. But I couldn't resist thinking that maybe if it were a different time, a different place, then maybe?

"I can't," She breathed. Her arms tensed, her entire body trembling. All I could to was hold her tighter and closer, trying to make sure she knew I would be here for her through whatever. I would take whatever they gave out for her.

"Please," The words were slipping out, "What'd he do to you?" I pulled my head back, just to look at her again. My eyes were searching hers, trying to memorize every colour, every line and every spec. I needed to know, I needed to make sure she would be okay. I needed to know just exactly what I was up against here. Unconsciously, I began to trace my fingers along her bruise, as if it would somehow help it to heal. I felt her lean into my touch, and I almost smiled until she spoke.

"They hit me." I was confused. _They?_

"They?" I voiced, my forehead crinkling. She nodded a bit, still leaning into my hand as if it was offering her some form of comfort.

"Yeah," Her voice was low and frail, "They hit me... with their guns. Over and over." My heart sank when I learned this piece of information. I didn't want that kind of mental image, it was one that would haunt my thoughts for as long as I lived. I could hear the defeat in her tones, and I wanted to hold her and tell her not to give up. I would fight for her, because she couldn't. I would take the hits for her from now on. I couldn't let this happen to her again, and I couldn't believe I had ever let it happen in the first place. I should have been there for her, I should have saved her somehow. I should have done something, _anything._

"He tried to kiss me," I froze. My heart stopped, and I couldn't suck in a breath. Thoughts were swirling, images racing past my eyes. I could see her crying, and I didn't want to even think about what else could have happened- what else she wasn't telling me. Oh god, Lola. I wanted to slam my hand against the wall, to hit something. He had touched her, I knew that, but he had _touched _her. Fuck. Thats the only thing I could think to express myself. This guy was going to get it. I didn't understand how someone so cruel could beat her, could whip a gun at her face and then try and kiss her. What kind of sick bastard was he? What kind of monster could actually think I would let him touch her like that and get away with it.

"He what?" Were the first words out of my mouth. I pulled away from Lola a bit, my eyes meeting hers dead on. The seriousness and anger radiated off me. He _touched_ her. He fucking touched her like that. No- No, I wasn't going to let that happen. I wasn't going to let him think that he could force himself on her like that. What kind of disgusting fuck does that?

"Did he do anything else to you?" I asked. If he had- Oh god, I couldn't even think of the possibility. However, she immediately denied it, and I felt compelled to ask again, just to make sure. "Do you swear to me, he didn't do anything else?" If he had done something even more inappropriate than he already had, Just-. I wanted to punch something, anything. I wanted to beat the shit out of him. I wanted him to know what it felt like to be beaten like he'd done to her. I wanted him to feel what she felt- the fear, the terror, the _pain._

I was pulled from my thoughts from a bang downstairs on the main floor. My mind clicked, and I immediately came to the conclusion that someone was in this house. We were the only people who 'lived' here, and I knew that _they_ would be the only ones who knew where it was. The only reasonable conclusion was that _they_ were in this house. Before I realized what I was doing, my hand was on the doorknob, words spilling from my mouth. I was going to make the sorry bastard pay.

I could hear the steady pounding of my feet as I raced down that hallway towards the stairs. I was on a track, determined to at least sock the guy in the face a few times. I may not have been a violent person, but this guy had gone too far. There had been times when I'd been angry, when I'd wanted to punch someone, to play around with them a bit and get them off my back. But never had there ever been a time before now that I'd wanted to wrap my hands around someone's neck and cause them real pain. I had never wanted someone dead before, but I had never been in a situation quite like this one either.

The stairs creaked as I ran, bounding down them towards the bottom. My hands were balled into fists, my face blank as I prepared. I didn't know exactly what I was getting into, but whatever it was, it was worth it if it meant defending her. It was worth it just to know that she wouldn't be the one dealing with it. My trek to the main floor however was cut short when I heard a second pair of feet coming down behind me. I stopped immediately, turning on the stairs to see Lola coming down. She flew into me, grabbing a hold as I steadied the both of us before we fell backwards down the staircase. Her face was serious, her eyes begging as she pulled me closer to her.

"Don't," She whispered, "Please don't." My heart broke as her eyes bored deep into mine. I felt her breath on my face, enticing and drawing me closer to her. I wanted to break away, to continue down those steps and get even, to face whoever was down there. Instead something kept me here, kept me with her.

"Lola..." I spoke her name. I looked behind my shoulder, listening for bangs, shuffling, even voices, but nothing came. The house was silent, leaving us in peace together as if there was only me and Lola; only us.

"Please Nate," My head snapped right back around to her. Her eyes never left mine as her feelings and thoughts almost transferred to me. She radiated with fear, and I couldn't understand why. She was going to be fine if I was concerned. I would make sure nothing happened to her, I would do my best to protect her.

"Nate, I need you," She admitted, "Don't." I could feel the tears beneath her eyes, and I wanted to stay just so she wouldn't cry. I hadn't even really processed what she had said, but it looked like it meant a lot to her. It looked like _I_ meant a lot to her. It was a foreign concept to me, to think that she _needed_ me. For as long as I could remember, I was anything except what she needed. She had pushed me away for so long, hating me, despising me. Now that she was in danger, she realized what I apparently meant to her? Maybe now she'll realize I'm worth her time, that I'm worth her at all. I had tried for so long to get along with her, to get closer to her. I was grateful that now she was starting to let me in, but I had to wonder if it was just too late. I couldn't keep waiting for her. I couldn't keep pretending.

"I'm-" I almost choked up looking in her eyes. They were desperate, pleading, but I had to, "I'm sorry." I pulled away and watched as she gripped the railing beside her. The tears that had been welling up in her eyes found their way to her cheeks. I turned away from her, unable to watch, and took a deep breath, making my way down the stairs. I paused at the bottom for a moment, looking back up at her. It almost hurt to come to terms with the idea that if there really was someone down here and they were capable of the things I saw they had done to Lola, that maybe this would be the last time I would ever see her. I might never lay eyes on her bright red hair, or her light blue eyes. Her smile, her laugh would all be memories lost if I should die right now. But I had to do it, I had to for her.

"Please, be careful," Her voice floated down to me. The tense seriousness in the air consumed us and I could hardly speak. All I could do was nod and turn to step off the last step, waiting to find whatever was lurking behind all these corners. Slowly, I moved in to the living room, my eyes darting around to all angles, searching. The room seemed clear, and I moved onto the kitchen to find nothing also. I traveled the circle, going to all the rooms on the ground floor of my house and finding absolutely nothing. I didn't bother to check my parents room, or the basement because I knew neither of those doors opened. Whatever was behind them was unknown to me, but what I did know was that whatever, or whoever had been here wasn't anymore. We were all alone again, just us.

I let down my guard, temporarily forgetting about Lola, who I guessed was still waiting on the staircase. My feet led me to the kitchen, where I pulled out a chair and sat, my head in my hands. What was I going to do? How was I going to get us out of here? Would anyone ever find us? Were they looking? Well, of course they were looking, but I hoped to God that someone could actually find us. My hands found the converter, and I pressed the television on. I could hear Lola's footsteps slowly padding down the stairs, and I just kept turning channels, slowing down when it came around to my house.

"Nate?" I looked up to Lola, and shot her a weary smile. She returned it, knowing that it meant that the house was criminal free for the time being. I watched her as she walked across the room, my eyes catching every inch of her. She was going to be fine, she had to be. We were going to make it through this. I had so much waiting for me outside this house. My family, my brothers, my career; I had so much to look forward to. But I couldn't help but find one piece of me that didn't hate this place, and I didn't entirely hate it because I got to be with her, no interruptions, no cold remarks, no fights, no _hate_. We just were, and we were together, and I found myself enjoying it.

She pulled out the chair across from me and sat down. My eyes flashed back to the television as I continued to breeze through the channels. I stopped though, when I saw the image of both my brothers hanging around Shane's room. Automatically, my head turned around to look up the stairs, but I realized how stupid it was. I knew for a fact that they weren't in this house, but I couldn't help but spare a glance. My gaze turned back to Lola, and she too was looking up the staircase. I couldn't manage to take my eyes off her as she turned back to me. She furrowed her eyebrows as if to say 'What is it?' but I just shook my head, looking back to the screen that held my two brothers.

Jason was sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall, and Shane was laying sprawled out on his bed. The both of them were silent, doing nothing. Jason was playing with his hands as they sat in his lap and Shane looked to be deep in thought. I watched as Jason slowly raised his head, looking up at Shane and preparing to speak.

"Do you know if anyone knows anything?" He asked, and Shane's head snapped up. Shane glanced at Jason sorrowfully, shaking his head and then resting it back down.

"No," He sighed, "If they do, they aren't telling us."

"Oh," Jason added, his eyes reverting back to the hands in his lap. There was tense silence again for a while as I watched. They looked so- I couldn't put my finger on it. Sad, yes, but there was something else to it. It killed me to see my brothers this way, so dead, so gone, so empty.

"Jay," Shane's voice cut the silence. Jason looked up, nodding.

"I can't stop thinking about it. Do you think- Do you think they're...?" He dared to ask. Jason's eyes widened immediately and his breath caught in his throat.

"What? N- No. I- Of course not, Shane. I just-," His voice went softer and lower with each word, doubting himself, "God, I don't know." He put his head down into his hands, his fingers gripping his curls lightly in frustration. The frustration of not knowing.

"I never told her," Shane spoke again, his voice low and defeated. Jason looked up, confused. My eyes shot over to Lola quickly, who was watching the television intently, eyebrows furrowed. She looked so anxious, like thoughts were running through her mind. Had Shane been talking about _her_? They had been talking about us, about how we were gone, at least I'd like to think they were. Then _she_ was brought up, and maybe _she_ was Lola? What had he never told her? Unfortunately, I had a pretty good idea of it, and it wasn't necessarily something I wanted to hear. Deep down, I had known in the back of my mind for so long, I had ignored it for so long.

"Told her What?" Jason asked, "Lola?" I watched as Lola tensed, awaiting whatever it was she was going to hear. My eyes shot over to the television where Shane was now sitting up on his bed. Jay was looking up to him, watching him carefully. Jason had been her best friend, and Shane's brother. How hadn't he noticed it when I had known all along? When I had been forcing myself to think it wasn't real.

"Yeah," Shane whispered. I had to strain to hear it through whatever microphone was set up in my house, "She- I don't know Jase. I know we weren't good friends or anything, not like you two, but..." He trailed off. "I think- I think I li-" That was all I heard. The television was shut off, and I looked across the table to Lola. She was frozen in place, her eyes wide. She was breathing slowly and loudly, staring at the black screen. The remote was in her hand, and I knew instantly that she had turned it off. She hadn't wanted to hear what he was going to say, what I knew he was going to voice for the first time. Did she want to hear it from him in person? Did she want to hear it at all? Whichever it was, I was grateful that she had turned the tv off, saving me from whatever would overcome me with those words. Saving me from the awkward silences.

"Lola?" I asked. She seemed stunned for a moment before turning to me.

"Huh? Yeah?" She crinkled her forehead, and silently we agreed to forget all about what had just happened. We silently agreed to forget Shane's confession.

"Hey, maybe you should go take a shower or something? Okay?" I told her, standing from my seat. She was still covered in dried blood, and her clothes were grimy and wrinkled. "I can get you a t-shirt and some shorts, and wash yours for you. The- the laundry room," I pointed over my shoulder with my thumb, "It's there, so..."

"Yeah- yeah, okay," She agreed, standing from her chair too and giving me a weak smile. I grabbed her hand, walking her up the stairs and let go of her at the bathroom door. It wasn't so much that I cared if she looked this way, she would always be beautiful, but I needed some time alone. I needed some time to think, to think about her, about Shane's confession. To think that maybe Shane wasn't just the only person who wanted to tell her something. I shouldn't have been thinking it, feeling it, but I was, and I couldn't deny it.

I told her I would I get her the clothes and leave them in the bathroom before I watched her walk in. I turned around, walking the few steps to my bedroom and opening the door. The newfound nervousness, the pressure disappeared and I let out a deep breath. How had I let this happen? How had I let down my guard, how had I let her get to me? I was just digging myself deeper, digging a grave of hurt, of rejection. But the one thing I wouldn't let myself admit was that I had been holding this shovel for two years, ever since I first met her.

Do you ever get that nervousness, that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you know something is just right? The butterflies that set a smile off on your face, and make your heart go just a little bit faster. When your breath catches in your throat and you know you don't want to be anywhere else than where you are. For two years, twenty four months, I had told myself this wasn't what I was feeling. I had told myself that this wasn't what I felt when I was with her. I had made myself believe I hated her just as much as she hated me. It didn't hurt so much when I didn't have to face it.

Every fight, every prank I endured. I had always questioned why I even stuck around, why I didn't take her out of my life for good. She was Jason's best friend, and her and Shane were close, I guess, so I had blamed it on that. She was around them, and I was their brother so I told myself she was always going to be there, whether or not I liked it. But I couldn't forget, or keep denying, or thinking that if I dug deep enough it would go away. But I couldn't tell her, it would ruin everything.

I could still remember the Hannah party when I first saw her in the black tutu dress. I remember thinking she had a lot of guts to come wearing it. I'd kept my distance, clinging closer to Hannah because we'd known each other. I hadn't wanted words to spill from my mouth and to embarrass myself. So from afar, I'd smiled at her smiles, laughed at her laughs, something waking up inside of me, something that had been hiding away until now, until we were stuck here in this house. Something I hadn't realized, until I saw those bruises and realized how much she meant to me and how much I couldn't risk loosing her again. I realized how much I needed her in my life, and I realized why I had kept her there all along through every hateful comment.

I snapped myself out of my thinking, trailing to my closet. I pulled out a large grey t-shirt and a pair of black gym shorts. I folded them up, gripping them tightly in my hand and walked back across the hall to her. Knocking gently, I told her I had the clothes, and she opened the door just a crack. She smiled at me, and I mirrored it, passing her the t-shirt and shorts. She took them, thanking me for the third time, and then shut the door again. I stood there for an extra moment, and then she cracked the door open again, passing me the short shorts and white tank she had been wearing before. Then that was the end of our exchange as I heard the shower turn on, and I started downstairs.

I made my way to the laundry room, automatically putting her clothes into the wash. I had done this so many times at my own house, with my own clothes of course, that it was natural to me without even thinking about it. Instead my thoughts were on yesterday. My eyes darted around the laundry room, looking for the cordless phone that we had in here. Finally, I found it, thinking that if yesterday I had managed to get through to people, maybe I could today too. Maybe if I was quiet, and maybe if I didn't draw attention to myself then I wouldn't get cut off like I suspected happened with Hannah. So I picked up the phone, careful to be extra quiet and looked around the room. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary, so quickly I dialed and placed the phone next to my ear, delighted when I heard a ring. It didn't take long for a voice to answer on the other end.

"Hello?" His voice was low and empty, just like I remembered hearing it.

"Jason," I whispered forcefully, my eyes darting around the room.

"Nate?!" He yelled, and I winced. "What?!" I heard from the background, and then shuffling. I knew instantly that Shane had gotten up from where he was probably still laying on his bed. The phone exchanged hands for a bit, and then there was a click. Shane had taken another cordless phone, inviting himself into the conversation.

"Yeah," I breathed, still nervous, "It's me."

"Where are you? Are you okay?!" They're voices were interlaced, saying the exact same thing on the other line.

"I'm- I'm okay," I told them, "But Lola- She's- Oh god," I croaked. My eyes teared up a bit, and I didn't know if I could tell them what really happened.

"Nate?" Kevin asked. I could tell he was terrified, "Is- Is she...?"

"No." I told him. Both of them breathed a sigh of relief. I collected my thoughts, trying to make this quick because I didn't know how long I had. I was amazed I had even managed to get this much time.

"Guys," I spoke, looking around the laundry room yet again, "We're in this house- it's- I don't know where. There's more than one, that's what Lola says. She's seen them. They-" I stopped, suddenly. My eyebrows furrowed and I listened. I couldn't hear the shower running upstairs anymore.

"Nate? Nate?!" Their voices were yelling to me on the other end, but I ignored it. I waited to hear her footsteps in the hallway. I waited to make sure that she was okay. I heard nothing, and the silence was starting to scare me, starting to tear me apart.

"_Nate?!_" I snapped back momentarily.

"They've got us here, we're trapped. She's- She's pretty bad. Please, please don't stop looking. Find the CD's okay? I need you guys to find us, before he does something to her. I don't know how long-" I cut myself off. There was a loud thump upstairs and then I knew. I knew why I hadn't been cut off yet. No one was monitoring me. No one was watching me because he was with _her. _

_"Fuck!"_ I let out, dropping the phone. I could hear Shane and Jason crying out to me as I ran. My feet took me through the kitchen and past the living room, up the staircase, slowing down when I reached the upstairs hallway. My heart started beating as I turned the doorknob of the bathroom slowly. It inched open and I froze. He had her pressed up against the wall, his hands searching her body. She wore the long, grey t-shirt that I had given her, but he had attacked her before she had been able to put anything else on. My eyes darted over to the abandoned gun on the sink's countertop. Moving forward quickly and quietly, I grabbed it, bringing it up to aim exactly where he was standing.

"Don't fucking touch her," Was all I said, and his body tensed. He let go of her, and her body dropped lifelessly to the ground. I sucked in a breath, my eyes skimming over her, scared. She wasn't moving, her entire body just laying limply. When I went to turn back to the man, he had skillfully made his way much closer to the bathroom door, creating a considerable distance between the himself and Lola. When he realized that I was watching him again, he froze, and I pointed the weapon back in his direction.

"Fine," He spoke, turning towards me, "Do it, kid." The cruelty in his eyes was so clear, and I found my heart speeding up with fear.

"You don't have the guts," He told me menacingly. And the truth was, he was right. I didn't have the heart to kill anyone, no matter who they were. I wasn't like that, I wasn't a murderer. My eyes shot over to Lola again, and he moved another inch. I wanted to go to her, to make sure she was alright, but I didn't want him to get away either. I wanted him to pay.

My eyes kept darting between them, every time I looked away he would step closer to safety. Finally, when I realized he wasn't going to pull out another gun on me, that he wasn't going to do anything this time, I made my choice. I let my eyes completely focus on the girl laying on the white tiles. When I went to look back at the man, he had darted out of the bathroom door and out of sight. Thats when I leaped into action. I ran to her side, sliding down on my knees next to Lola. I lifted her up into my arms, cradling her. Her entire body hung loosely, and I tried to shake her awake.

"Lola, come on," I whispered, my eyes never leaving her face. I stared at her with intensity, my entire body just hoping, praying she'd come to any second, but she didn't. She laid still, and I bowed my head against her cheek, where the dark bruise was still shining brightly. I could feel her breathing lightly against me, and I breathed with relief because she was still alive. I just didn't know if she would recover this time, but she had to. Because holding her then and there with her life on the line, I finally admitted the whole truth to myself, the one I had been trying to hide for so long. While she may have merely needed me, I was the one who _loved_ her.

**A/N: Well. Looks like Nate was technically the first to 'admit' it. But he admitted it to himself. Who do you think will be the first to admit it to the other person? Also, would you be interested in a _Nilly kiss_ within the next two chapters, or would it seem too soon? Any predictions on future chapters? Anything you'd like to see less or more of? Please review, you guys are awesome. Also, if anyone just plain wants to talk, PM :) I love talking, have I mentioned that?**

**Review!**


	11. Chapter 11: Lilly

**A/N: Firstly, thank you soooo much to the reviewers. You guys are absolutely amazing. Secondly, I apologize for taking so long with this update. It's also not very long, but I think you'll be happy with the ending of it. I've been catching up with school, and getting back into my schedule. Homework sucks, and I have a lot of it now that I'm a Junior. I'm going to do my best to keep updating regularly, at least once a week, but I also have work taking up quite a bit of my time. Anyways, enough of me, Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

Anyone But You

Chapter Eleven

Everything was in slow motion and I couldn't begin to breath. He was so close to me, his eyes staring back into mine as we stood. We stood on that staircase for I don't even know how long. Minutes and seconds were useless here. They meant nothing anymore. Time was only sixty seconds, sixty minutes, twenty four hours. Time didn't have a hold on us in this moment, there was only us. Only us and this moment. And although I would never admit it, I liked it. I liked the feeling of having no constrictions, no time to hold us back; _no one_ to hold us back.

My hands were holding on to him tighter than I had ever held onto something. I knew everything was beginning to fall apart, beginning to disintegrate. Time was ticking away, even though it had no constraint. It didn't matter, but it meant everything because I wanted all the time I could get with him. I didn't want to be alone without these seconds, these seconds that ticked mockingly. Tick tock, tick tock. Never knowing exactly how many more I would hear, or knowing how many more he'd be there with me for.

"Don't," My voice was fragile, weak, just like I felt, "Please Don't." For so long I had been so strong. I had been so sure, so positive that I wouldn't break. I had myself convinced that I didn't need anyone or anything, that I could hold myself up, but it was all a lie. I hadn't been holding myself up, but instead these walls. The walls that guarded me, instead of letting me live, and now for once, I could say I needed someone. I let these walls fall brick by brick, vulnerable and stronger than ever because I had him. He couldn't leave.

"Nate," I almost cried, "I need you. Don't." The message was clear, and for the first time I let him in. I let these defenses down, and pulled him to me. Without him I'd be alone, I'd be scared and I wouldn't know what to do if something should happen to him once he walked down those steps. Although I needed him, I still felt an obligation to keep him safe. I'd dug this grave for him and forced this problem into his arms. He wasn't a part of it, only me, and I couldn't let him face the consequences that I so rightfully deserved.

"I'm-", I hung on his every word, "I'm sorry." My hand found the railing next to me, steadying myself. My body wavered and I almost collapsed at his words. My eyes lowered, the tears spilling out uncontrollably. He was leaving me, when I'd asked him to stay. I had bit back my tongue, the one that wanted to spit out insults because it was familiar, and admitted it. I admitted that he meant something to me, that somewhere deep down he was someone I wanted in my life. It felt like a slap in the face to know that it was like he didn't care, like he didn't take my request seriously. And the bricks piled a little as the feeling rose in the pit of my stomach. That feeling of rejection almost, but so much worse.

I watched him trail down the stairs, and he looked back at me when he reached the bottom. It shook me, scared me to know that this could be the last time my eyes ever met his. If someone was down there waiting for him, this could be our last moment, and our last look. Our last words, and yet the first time I had let this barrier fall. I printed it into my memory right then and there, and I hoped to god it wouldn't be the last memory I had of him.

"Please be careful," Left my lips. It was quiet and solemn, and I sent my prayers with it. It drafted down the stairs and as soon as he left my view, my eyes slipped shut, listening closely. I could hear every creak, and ever movement as if it was right next to me. My eyes were misty, the tears reflecting in the light. The gulping sound I made when I swallowed echoed in my ear, and my heart was the loudest of them all. I was terrified. I was afraid that I would hear voices, a fight, a gunshot, but mostly I was afraid I wouldn't hear anything at all. I was afraid that when I went down there he would be gone already. And thats when I realized that I my biggest regret at that moment was that the last words I ever said to him might be 'Please be careful'. There was so much more I wanted to say.

For a few moments I could only hear the soft, comforting movements that Nick made. I listened intently, started slightly by a loud screech across the kitchen's flooring. When I caught myself, and thought about it, I was relieved. Everything was okay. Slowly, my hand loosened its grip on the railing next to me, and I moved from my spot. The tenseness and fear slowly slipped away and my feet lightly touched each step until I reached the bottom. They creaked as I moved, but only slightly, and when I reached the bottom, I let out the breath I had been holding. He was sitting there at the kitchen table as if none of this had really happened. I could only pray that it hadn't, but I knew it had.

"Nate?" He looked up to my voice, and smiled wearily. I tried my best to return it, but it didn't work out quite well. I imitated his movements and walked to the kitchen, sliding out a chair of my own. I sat across from him, just watching him. I watched his eyes move over the television and his curls fall perfectly into his face. He looked so concentrated, and so confused, as if he was thinking about something so deeply. I focused in on him, my eyes covering ever part of him just trying to remember it forever. This was something I wouldn't let go of, something that I knew would change our relationship. I didn't know where it would go once we got out of here, if we did at all, and that almost made me want to stay. Would we go back to the old days, the days of fights and insults? A part of me still clung to it, knowing it was the only thing I could count on, but I knew it was changing. I knew I could never go back to know it used to be, not now. I was in too deep, and I had let him in too far to push him away again. But I had to wonder, if I couldn't hold on to our fights and our hate, what could I really depend on anymore?

My eyes then took the attention of the television that was on. I could see Shane and Jason in their room, and without a second thought, my head snapped, turning to look at the staircase I had just come down. I still hadn't grasped the concept as well as it seemed that Nate had. I still wanted to believe that two of my best friends were just up those stairs, and that I could run to them at any time. I still wanted to believe that I was at the real Gray house and that I wasn't in some sort of sick replica. When I turned my head back around, facing the reality I was in, I caught Nate's eyes on me. My eyes furrowed immediately, wondering what he was looking at exactly. I knew he was looking at me, but I couldn't see why exactly. Before I could even ask him, he shook his head clear of his thoughts and turned back to the television.

When I looked back to the tv it almost tore me apart. The two of them were sitting around Shane's room, talking about me and Nate. They seemed to solemn, so sad. It was something I couldn't place, and something I didn't want to see in the eyes of one of my best friends. I listened to them speak, and I listened to Shane doubting us. I could almost tell he was losing most of his hope, thinking we were dead. Jason was holding on, still hanging in there and trying to keep up Shane's spirits, but neither of them knew. I think the only people who really could be certain were Me, Nate, Miller and the other man who's name I didn't know. I just hoped they wouldn't loose faith in us, and I hoped they'd keep praying. God, I wanted to get out of here.

"I never told her," Shane's voice rang in my ears. Instantly my face was the mirror image of confusion. Was he talking about me? What hadn't he told me? In some way, I wanted to know, but a part of me didn't. A part of me felt like this conversation wasn't meant for my ears, and that if he really wanted to tell me, he should do it willingly.

"Told her what?" Jason asked, "Lola?" It confirmed my suspicions.

"Yeah," Shane answered, "She- I don't know Jay. I know we weren't good friends or anything, not like you two, but..." He trailed off. "I think.." I panicked. The tone said it all, the voice, the sadness. Somewhere in me, I connected everything and I knew. And deep down, somewhere much deeper, I didn't want to know. I wanted to forget everything I had put together in these seconds and wash away the guilt that was coming over me. My eyes shot down, searching the table for the remote. I grabbed it, directing it to the television and turning it off. I didn't want to hear this, I didn't want it to be real. I just wanted to pretend, live not knowing what he was really going to say. I didn't want the guilt on my shoulders, but unfortunately it was already settling there.

"I think I li-" Was the last of it. My eyes were wide, with a sense of knowing, and I couldn't calm my breathing. This couldn't be happening. I think I had known for much longer than now that Shane had liked me, but I couldn't admit it. I didn't want to have to tell him I didn't like him that way, and I didn't want to have to reject him. Things were already awkward between Nate and I, and I didn't want to cut off another Gray. In a way, by shutting the television off, I was shutting him out. Putting this awkwardness off for another day, another situation to face, because I couldn't do it now. I couldn't hear it from _him._

"Lola?" A voice called out. It fell on deaf ears for a moment while I concentrated on the blank screen, still thinking. However, quickly I snapped back into place, turning to the only voice I knew that would talk to me with such concern, such grace while I was here.

"Huh? Yeah?" I asked, my forehead scrunching a tad. I looked over him, ignoring the awkwardness. His face was soft, his eyes gentle and I fell into them. I knew I could trust him.

"Hey, maybe you should go take a shower or something? Okay?" He suggested, standing. I unnoticeably looked over myself, taking note of how disgusting I must appear. I was covered with bruises, and as I remembered them, they began to ache again. Scratches lined my skin, and blood fell across every part of me. My clothes were wrinkled and gross, and I felt awkward now just sitting in them. I felt ugly, and I wondered how he could even look at me with the look in his eyes he'd been watching me with since I got here. He told me he had extra clothes he could get for me to wear, since mine were dirty, and that he would wash mine in the laundry room, since it was there.

"Yeah- yeah, okay," I agreed. I stood from my chair and gave Nick a weak smile. Sensing my insecurity, he grabbed my hand, and lead me up the stairs. The two of us stopped at the bathroom door and his grip dropped mine. I couldn't help but feel the butterflies in my stomach, and I tried to push them away, denying anything I could be feeling. I didn't want to care about him, I didn't want to loose my only constant. He told me he would get the clothes, and then I left him, walking into the washroom. I closed the door behind myself, leaning against it and taking in a deep breath.

I looked around the room, and then went to search through the cabinets. I found towels, and laid them out neatly. The room itself was comforting, enclosing me and making me feel protected from anything that was outside of it. Slowly, I turned, looking into the mirror and tracing my hands across the marks. I didn't look like myself anymore, I didn't look like Lilly. I looked hurt, and broken, and it wasn't something I was used to. Shedding my tank top, and shorts, I looked ever ever scratch, and every bruise. They were memories imprinted on me, and I could recall how I got every one of them. I could see which ones would scar, and which ones would fade with time. None of them would be forgotten though, none of these moments would go away, none would slip my mind. Each touch and each emotion would plague my thoughts. Each beat of my heart, each breath, and each tear would be reminders. Nothing could ever make me forget. Nothing could make me forget about him.

I was brought out of my thoughts by a gentle knock. Nate's voice echoed pasted the door, and I walked over, cracking the barrier open just enough. When I saw him, I couldn't help but smile. I could hardly look away, my eyes mesmerized by every colour in his. He passed me the clothes, and I took them graciously. I closed the door for a moment, and grabbed my other clothes, then passed them through to him so he could wash them. Once he took them, we smiled again, and the door closed.

I went immediately to the shower, turning it on. I let the water warm, and then I stepped in. The moment I did, all the scratches and the bruises washed away. The pain disappeared and every anxiety and fear was non-existent. I pulled the red wig from my head, and I let it rest on a hook in the shower. My hands ran through my long blond hair, and then trailed over the marks on my skin. The droplets of water fell onto my face, and my eyes closed, letting it overcome me. I finally relaxed.

I thought about everything in that time. Thoughts overcame me, surrounding me and consuming me. I thought about home, the real home, back with my Mom, and Miley and Oliver. I missed it, and I hoped that they were missing me just as much. I thought about Jason and Shane, and how I hoped they wouldn't give up on us, and mostly I thought about Nate. He was turning out to be nothing like I had pegged him. He was molding to my every need, being everything I could ever ask for. I almost regretted letting these two years past through my fingertips. I almost wished I could take it all back and start over, to make things right.

His smile was imprinted in my mind, and his voice was sending these calm waves through me, just as I thought about it. I wanted to slow down, to take this house as a blessing of some sort, and take the time we had. I didn't know what lied ahead in the road, but I would make the most of it. I would try to make amends, and although our hate was a constant, I was willing to give that up. I was willing to give it up, just to experience whatever might be down the road in a friendship.

After washing the wig, I placed it back over my hair. Although I trusted Nate, I wasn't sure how he would react to seeing a completely different person. I secured the vibrant red tresses and stepped out of the shower, turning it off. I treaded across the room, and put on my undergarments first, and then let the giant grey tshirt slip over my slender body. I wrapped the wet, red hair to one side of my neck, and took a glance in the mirror quickly. My body instantly froze at the reflection.

Before I could do anything at all, hands wrapped around my frame, covering my mouth as I struggled. I tried desperately to fight him off, to push him away, but his grip help firm. His hands burned against my skin, just as my tears did on their way to my cheeks. I didn't want to live this over, I didn't want to go through this a second time. His touches were desperate, and his voice in my ear was chilling. I wanted to die, and at the same time I wanted to live. I wanted to live to say the words I had never said but so desperately wanted to.

My body somehow moved, and I felt it slam up against the wall. My eyes closed at the pain. In my ears I could hear scrapes and slaps, and cracks, and every moan and whisper that escaped his mouth. The butterflies in my stomach became bats, and they bit at me, making me sick, making me squirm and hurt in places I shouldn't. Not again, please god, not again.

"Happy to see me?" His voice slimed, and I tensed. His gun laid abandoned on the counter top, but still I felt vulnerable. I no longer felt the protection, and however much I had begun to heal was set into reverse. The scars were pulling at me, digging deeper and deeper as his voice cascaded all around me. I was terrified. I couldn't even respond to his voice with a remark, I couldn't fight back because all these memories were rushing to me. His touches, his lips, his voice. The pain and the anguish. I didn't fight back, because I knew. I knew that he was here for me, and maybe if he got what he wanted, he would leave Nate alone.

So his hands searched my arms, my stomach, my thighs, and I didn't stop him. My head pressed against the wall, and I cried. I didn't sob or scream, I was silent, dreading what I could only pray wouldn't come next. His hands found my face, and he pulled my head up, almost forcing my eyes on his. They were sick and cruel. They held a darkness I had never seen, and a maliciousness I knew I had yet to experience. I felt his forehead on my own as he stared into my blue eyes. Typically, his own was almost black, and it hurt me to just see them.

Next something that was almost a familiarity happened. I was pulled back, and slammed back into the wall. It was something I knew well from the night in the police station. However, unlike those times, I was weak and tired and hurt. My head let out a crack, and darkness piled in from the corners of my eyes. The bathroom was blinking, focusing and then becoming blurry. I wanted to squint, but I couldn't concentrate enough to even do that.

I heard shuffling, and I listened to the bathroom door creak open. I didn't understand how Miller didn't notice this because it was louder than anything around me. The shuffling was thunderous and then I heard his voice. The voice of my rescuer, of my hero. The voice that I would be forever grateful to.

"Don't fucking touch her," And then whatever was holding me up, lost its grip and I fell. And the voice of my rescuer was the last thing I heard before the black in the corner of my eyes engulfed me. I felt myself meet the floor, and then there was nothing. There wasn't pain, or fear for those few and treasured seconds.

Then my eyes fluttered, slowly they opened and his face was the only thing in focus. A smile unconsciously fell onto my lips, and I leaned in closer to him. His arms pulled me towards him, his soft lips meeting my cheek, and letting me know I was okay. I didn't know how long I had been out, but I was still on the bathroom floor, with my rescuer. I was here with Nate. Somehow, despite what had just happened, and the knowledge that it could happen again at any time, I felt safe. I felt like while I was with him nothing could touch me.

"Why is it dark?" I whispered. My eyes trailed past his features and to the world around me. He was leaned up against the bathroom wall, holding me close and carefully. The floor was wet, and the room was barely lit. There was light from the hallway, but the windows were black.

"Its night," He answered, and I nodded. My strength fell short, and the moment was lost to black again.

The next time I woke up, it was still dark. There was a soft surface beneath me, and I struggled to open my eyes. The room around me was black, but I knew that we weren't on the washroom floor anymore. I felt the bed beneath me, and the covers covering me up to my ribs. My arms were limp, and my head was pressed up against a pillow, except it wasn't. Thats when I realized I was snuggled up against Nate's bare chest. His one arm held me protectively, and the other hand was threading through my hair. It calmed me, and I didn't want to move an inch.

My eyes looked up to his face, seeing he was asleep. Unconsciously, I moved closer to him, tangling my legs with his. He stirred for a moment, but continued to rest. My once limp hand found itself pressed against his chest, my fingers spread and taking in the moment. It felt right, almost perfect, and exactly where I was supposed to be.

The silence was enveloping the moment, and I let it continue to. I just watched him, my eyes focused on every line on his face and every curl that fell into his eyes. The one curl that I had cut off so long ago had grown back, and automatically, I reached up, brushing it away with my fingertips. His eyelids twitched, and I smiled at the perfection. I snuggled in deeper, pulling the covers closer to the both of us and laying in the moment. I took it all in, and thinking that it to have this moment, everything else was worth it. I could take anything else I was dished, just to come back to this one memory.

I breathed in deeply, smelling a scent I had grown to love. It was everything I had ever wished for in this moment, and lulled me into peace. I let my eyes move past him, watching the clock. I had gone through more things than anyone could ever imagine, and I had thought thoughts I was ashamed to say I had. I had been invincible, and I had been helpless. I had believed every word, and doubted everyone around me. I was a chameleon, changing to fit every need and every situation. I had run, and I had hid, and I had left so many things behind. I could remember, and I could hope to god to forget. I could feel every cell running through me, and my heart beating against my chest. I could feel the swell of air in my lungs, and the tense in my shoulders. I could feel the wind in my throat as I took those breaths, and I could feel the tingle in my soul as I thought of the memories. I was broken, and I was perfectly fine. I was a shell, a wall, a barrier to the world around me. I was lost, and I was cold. I was vulnerable, and I was afraid. I was not the first impression I made. I wasn't the second impression either, or the third or the fourth.

I wanted to shake, and I wanted to cry, but he made everything feel alright. I was remembering the hurt, the pain, the love and every regret I had ever had. I was trying, I was praying, and I was wishing at this 11:11 to make things right. I was starting to slow down, to take these minutes and keep them safe. I was taking things for granted, and appreciating everything I had. I was holding these people close, and I was letting some slip from me. I was desperate for his voice, and I was pushing him away. I was smiling, and I was falling. I was falling into the unknown, something I wasn't familiar with. I was breathing, I was living, and I was moving forward. I was gasping for air, I was dying, and I was dwelling in the past. He was everything I ever wanted, and I was everything he never needed. I was a wreck, and I was put together. I was the same, and I was different. I was forgiving, and I was holding so many grudges against him. But most importantly, I was letting go of it all. Tonight.

I held tighter to him, feeling light and letting everything off my shoulders. He was an amazing person, someone I never wanted to let go of. He was someone I wanted to make years of memories with. Someone I wanted to spend a life time with, watching him grow and change and experience brand new things. Someone I wanted to argue with, someone I wanted to fight with, and someone I wanted to make up with. Someone I wanted to talk to or say nothing at all to and still feel like we'd had the best conversation. Someone I wanted to stay out all night with, or stay in all day with. He was someone I would do anything for, just because he had done everything to protect me here. Thats when I realized just how much he meant to me, and how much I was willing to give up this constant. I couldn't hate him anymore.

I shuffled again, and I felt his arms tense around me. I stilled, waiting, and watching as his eyelids flickered. They opened, and he yawned lightly. His eyes moved around the room, and then met my own. The smile that settled on his face touched me, and I couldn't even smile because he took my breath away. He was it for me, and I knew it. The look in his eyes that I saw when he stared at me just made my heart beat fast and slow at the same time. The look he gave me still when I was bruised and broken, and looking like I had crawled out of a swamp. He saw past that, and he cared. He cared enough to put me before himself, to walk down those stairs and put himself in danger for me.

"Hi," I whispered, smiling up at him. His smile mirrored mine, and he ducked his head lower. The hand in my wig never stopped brushing through the red hair comfortingly.

"Hi," He whispered back. The both of us were silent, watching each other with giant smiled plastered on our faces. The memory of Miller in the bathroom was forgotten for the time being and the two of us laid still together, making our own memories. Our noses were almost touching, and I could feel his breath hanging over me. This was the last place I ever thought I would be when I woke up, but I reveled in it and I loved every minute of it. He was here, so close to me, and so breathtaking. His eyes stirred against the emotions in me, and I could feel the butterflies erupting inside me again.

My smile grew bigger just looking at him, and I couldn't take my eyes off him. This moment was more than I could ever ask for.

"Thank you," I breathed. He pulled me closer, if that was even possible, and our bodies flushed together, flesh against flesh. Perfection at its best.

"I'm sorry," His voice sounded defeated. His eyes shot down cast, and his shoulders slumped. His grip loosened ever so lightly, and I fell a bit short from him. My eyebrows furrowed, and I moved my head, trying to catch his gaze. What did he have to be sorry for? My hands reached out, and I touched his shoulder gently. His eyes looked up to meet my confused ones, and I tilted my head.

"Sorry?" I choked out, "Why?" His laid his head back against the pillow, his eyes staring up to the ceiling. His breathing was deep, and the arm that was around me was brought to his side. Instantly, I felt the cold surround me as his touch disappeared.

"I let him get to you," He answered. His head turned, his eyes meeting mine. I was still confused. How could he even begin to blame himself for that? It wasn't his obligation to be there for me, or to protect me, but I loved him because he was. Because he choose to, and most of all because he felt guilty when he didn't have to. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I smiled. Now it was his turn to be confused. Before he could even ask why, I answered him.

"I'm not sorry that any of this happened," I confessed quietly. The whisper brought his face closer to mine as he strained to hear me. His eyes were focused on mine, and slowly his forehead met my own. I closed my eyes, whispering out the last of my confession.

"I wouldn't take back anything at all. For every wrong we've ever had there have been so many rights. All of the fights and all of the arguments have made us stronger, and every moment and every experience we've ever had has brought us here, and right here is exactly where I want to be." When I opened my eyes, he was staring back at me with such an intensity. His forehead pressed deeper against mine, as we both tried to eliminate the space.

"I want to be here, with you," And without hesitation, his lips moved over mine. It was different than anything I could ever remember feeling, and I didn't object. The kiss was intense, and amazing. Our lips met like puzzle pieces, as if I could never fit so perfectly with anyone else but him. His mouth moved with mine expertly and passionately, as if this was anything but new to us. My hands, pressed against his chest, his hand still tangled in my hair as the other held my arm gently. This was a moment I would always remember. This was a moment I wanted to live over and over, unconstrained by time, where the only thing that mattered was us and the butterflies that took me over.

**A/N: And thats chapter eleven. Tell me what you liked, and didn't like, and if the Nilly kiss was or wasn't too soon. Any predictions or things you'd like to see next chapter? Also, there's a poll on my profile pertaining to which story I should write once I finish ABY, which has maybe four or five more chapters left. So tell me what you think about that. Also, if you just want to talk, PM me. I love talking :) Long reviews make me smile. **

**Review please!**


	12. Chapter 12: Nate

**A/N: Hello, hello! I'm terribly sorry about how slowwww the updates have been. I've got a ton of Major English papers to write, and three presentations. I have a Drama presentation in two weeks, and two AVI canvases to finish. Media's chill though. I wanna say hugeeeeee thank you's to the reviewers, you guys never cease to amaze me. Enough of me though, on with the story! Enjoy!**

Anyone But You

Chapter Twelve

Hours. I couldn't even begin to count the minutes I had laid there with her. She was alive, her pulse beating against me, and her breathing lightly blowing against my chest. She was alive and she was absolutely beautiful. I had been so worried, so terrified on that bathroom floor. I had been waiting so long, but finally she had come to. However, as quickly as that moment began, she was out cold again, but it reassured me. It reassured me that she was going to be okay; that _we_ were going to be okay. For those hours that I had been laying there with her, I hadn't known what to think or believe. I knew for sure she had to live. I would never have forgave myself if she hadn't. She had been through a million and one things already and I couldn't put her through anything else. It wasn't fair.

Forever and ever I wanted to feel her heart beating against mine, and her breath on my skin. I wanted to hear her voice in my ear, and have her touch sending tingles up my spine. I wanted forever to be with her, and I wanted it to consume every moment of my life. Her smile, her laugh, her eyes were the only memories I could think of. These were the only things that existed in my forever. She was all I really needed, and when I thought about losing that, my body stopped working, because there was no forever without her.

So there we laid, in silence and in peace. There were no grudges and no hard feelings. No threats, no insults. There was nothing but us and our thoughts. And if I was being truthful, all my thoughts were on her. My mind was twisting and turning, imagining all kinds of scenarios. Some were outside the house, on a summers day, and others I didn't even want to consider. Others involved us living out our last days in this place. But I couldn't really say that would be all too bad, as long as I had her, and as long as no one touched her.

Unconsciously, I wrapped my arms tighter around the space I knew she would be. She had woken up earlier in the washroom, and once she had I figured it would be alright to move her. So here we laid, in a room that looked so much like my own, but I knew it wasn't. Here we laid on a bed that felt just like mine, but at the same time was so different. The only thing that comforted me in this moment was the feeling of her body pressed against mine and the apple strawberry scent wafting through the air. If nothing else could make me feel at home here, this did. This was the only true feeling of familiarity. The smell was soothing, and the moment I'd inhaled it I'd fallen asleep. I'd drifted off into nothingness, where everything could be as perfect as I wanted and where I wasn't faced with the undeniable knowledge that every day in this house could easily be my last.

Slowly though, that perfection began to slip away from me. I felt my eyes flickering and then met with a brand new darkness as they opened. The room around me was the same room I'd fallen asleep to, and the girl in my arms was staring up at me. Automatically, I let out a tired yawn, but it couldn't cover the smile that was spreading across my face. The perfection that I had thought had slipped away was in fact right here, looking into my eyes. Her smile was slightly lopsided, and her hair was so disheveled. Her bruise, still covering half of her face, was lightening up just a bit. But none of it mattered to me. The only thing I could focus on was the look in her eyes, the look she was giving me. It was something I hadn't ever seen before in her eyes and something I never wanted to let go of. My breath caught in my throat just staring into the deep blue, just searching for any answer I could get.

"Hi," The words escaped her lips. The whisper was low and touched my heart. I inched my face closer, testing my limits and trying to eliminate the space between us. I could almost feel her heart beating against mine, and my breathing was erratic. I was so nervous, and I didn't even know why. There was just something about her.

"Hi," I imitated her. The smile on my face grew larger and wider. I couldn't constrain it, I couldn't hide it anymore. The moment was quiet, and it seemed to last forever. In this house everything disappeared and let us be. Let us have this moment without the fear, the anxiety, without anything to worry about. There was no Miller, no tapes, no murder; only us. This was exactly how it should have been, forever and for eternity. This moment was one that I wanted to last my whole life. The both of us, so close and our hearts beating to the same beat. Her smile mirroring mine with her hands pressed up against my chest. This was better than any perfection I could ever dream up. This was better than any memory I could ever remember. She was the apple strawberry that put me to sleep, and the thought that made me smile. She was the spark in my eyes whenever we would fight, and now I could finally hold her close and enjoy it. I didn't have to deny it to myself anymore.

"Thank you." Her voice broke the silence. Immediately, I was proud. I was happy that I had done something worthy of a 'thank you' from her. But just as quickly as that feeling came, it left. What exactly had I done? Nothing. I hadn't been able to protect her from him. He'd gotten to her again and he'd hurt her for a second time. I hadn't done anything she could be thankful for. If anything, I'd let her down. I'd broken my promises that I'd make sure she was okay.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. I hadn't done anything. The thought that it was almost my fault that this had happened made my heart break. If I hadn't left her upstairs she'd be fine. If I had hung up on Jason quicker, she wouldn't be so hurt. It didn't matter that my conversation with Jason could have allowed them to find us, my main priority was keeping her safe. I couldn't even bear to think about what had happened before I'd gotten to that washroom.

"Sorry?" She asked, "Why?" Wasn't it obvious though? I let my head fall back on the pillow, not wanting her to see the discontent in my eyes. I'd failed her. And that was something I had never wanted to do.

"I let him get to you," I turned my head, my eyes boring into her own. I could sense the confusion in her eyes, but I knew that she had to know what I meant. I had promised to keep her safe, and I hadn't followed through. I'd promised that he wouldn't touch her, but in essence, I'd let him. I'd given him that opportunity, and he had taken it. "I'm sorry," I apologized again.

"Don't be," She smiled. Immediately I was confused. How could I not be sorry? I'd broken my promises, and I'd let her get hurt.

"I'm not sorry that any of this happened," She added. The whisper was enticing, bringing me close enough to hear her and close enough to feel her breath mingle with mine. The look in her eyes before she spoke her next words was intense. It dug deep inside me, and I couldn't look away. It pulled me closer to her with each passing second, the inches between us disappearing.

"I wouldn't take back anything at all. For every wrong we've ever had there have been so many rights. All of the fights and all of the arguments have made us stronger, and every moment and every experience we've ever had has brought us here, and right here is exactly where I want to be." Each word that poured from her lips set off a spark inside me. Her eyes slid open from when they'd closed seconds ago, and I couldn't get enough of them. The space was now minimal as my forehead pressed up against hers. I hung on her every word, begging and pleading that she'd say what I thought was coming next. In that minute, I'm sure that every part in my body was numb, and that I was concentrated on her and her words. Nothing else mattered except what she was going to say next.

"I want to be here, with you," and with that confirmation, I couldn't hold back. Everything I had ever wanted became a reality as my lips pressed against hers. In all my seventeen years and nine months, I had never kissed someone with such an intensity as I did her. Two years of built up tension and anger was let out and left us with this absolute perfection.

My hands tangled deeper into her hair and her fingers spread out like stars across my chest. The moment was heated and desperate, as we tried to make up for every insult in this one kiss; as we tried to make it last forever. But unfortunate for the both of us, nothing is ever forever, and it ended much too soon. I was breathing, taking in every particle of air I could manage to. I still couldn't believe this was real, that she wanted me just as much as I needed her. The oxygen was coming in deep breaths, and our foreheads remained connected. When I opened my eyes she was still there, as real as ever. I dipped down, letting my lips touch against hers again quickly. Her face broke out into a smile, and her eyes looked up to meet mine. How had I let two years with her slip away?

"Nate?" She smiled, teeth and all. Without hesitation I saved the image into my memory. I didn't nod, or answer her, but she continued anyways. I felt the pads of her fingers trail my skin as she contemplated what to say next. Her eyes shot downcast and then nervously back to me.

"I think I love you," My lungs stopped breathing, and my heart stopped beating. The pulse in my body vanished and I couldn't even choke out a word. She looked at me anxiously, and I'm sure the look in my eyes was enough to tell her I loved her too.

"Say it again," I asked her, not believing. I waited, expecting to hear something completely different than what had just met my ears. Instead, she laughed lightly at my surprise, and assured me that I wasn't still in a dream world.

"I think I'm in love with you, Nathaniel," She smiled, digging her head against my chest to hid her obvious embarrassment. My arms wrapped their way around her body, pulling her as close as humanly possible to me. I nudged her chin with my thumb lightly, and she looked up to me. What wasn't blackened on her face, was noticeably red and I couldn't remember the last time I had seen her blush. Had I ever, for that matter? I pulled her face closer to mine, my hand resting across the bruise lightly. Her eyes were darting between my own, trying to figure out just what I was thinking. Slowly, I felt my heart beating and my pulse pulsing again as the life came back into me.

"I'm glad," I answered her, forehead on forehead, our eyes locked on each other, "Because I'm in love with you too, Lola Luftnagle." Her face immediately lit up as if it was Christmas morning. Her smile was bigger than I had ever seen it. I didn't waste another moment before I kissed her again. I couldn't get enough of the feeling of her soft lips and the smell of apples and strawberries. It was a mystery how I hadn't realized how perfectly we fit together. I couldn't even remember why we ever fought in the first place. These three kisses had erased all the anger, and all the frustration and left me open to building on this new found feeling for her.

So in this moment we laid together. Our smiles were mirror images and our bodies were pressed tightly, fitting together like she was made for only me. That apple strawberry smell was in the air again, and she let her eyes slip closed, the lips still in a smile. Protectively, I held her to me, kissing the top of her forehead as I watched her drift away and I felt my own eyes beginning to close. I tried to stay awake, but the sleep overcame me within minutes. I didn't want to sleep because no dream would ever compare to this. Nothing would ever compare to her.

The night came and went and before I realized just what was happening, streaks of light were shining through the windows and falling onto my face. Squinting my eyes, I yawned and stretched. As I tried to move, I felt the limp figure beside me and the weight across my body. Thats when it all came back to me and I remembered last night's 11:11. The smiles, the intensity, the kisses and the confessions. If I could replay that night over a thousand times, I would. It was everything I had ever wished for and everything I had ever thought about. It was more than I could ever imagine it would have been. If I thought hard enough, I could still feel her lips moving against mine and her touch on my skin. If I thought hard enough it was almost as if I could go back into the memory again.

I looked down then, to see her still laying there, still and asleep. Her face was soft, her eyes closed with a carefree sense. Her lips still held that genuine Lola smile that I loved. I didn't want to wake her and ruin the calmness that she had. I didn't want to be the one to take that away from her. Lucky, though, I didn't have to because the moment I moved from her, she stirred. Her eyes flickered lightly as she took in her surroundings. Finally, she noticed me, but her smile faltered. My eyes regained a confused look I knew all too well.

"Morning..." I spoke, lifting myself from the bed. All of a sudden the house didn't seem so bad. It reminded me of when I'd first woke up here on Monday and nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. The light kind of took away the eerie sense of things and replaced it with a much more noticeable calm feeling. Our bodies were tangled together, but I tore myself away, walking across the room. She still laid there with an almost somber look in her eyes. There was something missing that had been there last night, or perhaps there was something I hadn't seen before. There was something hidden, something so fake about it all. The look that was there for just a few moments shook me. Had she lied all along? Had last night even really happened? I couldn't put it past her to do something of the sort. Two years of hatred hung in the back of my mind and began to spin a web of paranoia. I'd opened myself up to her and put my heart on the line. Could I really believe she felt the same so quickly? Thats when the perfection I'd created came crashing down.

"I'm.." I wavered, "I'll go make breakfast." I spoke. I went for the door, removing the chair I'd placed under the knob. If it wasn't obvious, the house was void of locks, so I'd had to use whatever we had been given to keep Miller out.

"I'll come too," She answered, pulling herself from under the covers. The grey t-shirt hung over her body and it drew me back into a memory of Saturday morning. I hadn't gotten that Elvis Costello shirt back from her, now that I thought of it. Her legs were smooth, tanned, and darkened with bruises, but I couldn't help but steal a glance. She was so beautiful in every way. Her arms folded neatly across her chest as she stood in front of me with a look of expectancy. She fidgeted, and her legs seemed jittery with unspoken words. Her forehead was creased, just deciding what to say, but nothing came. The air was cut with silence and the tension between us. I should have known it wouldn't end with just one night.

My feet padded lightly in the quiet room and the door creaked as I pulled it open. The route was scarily familiar as I made my way down the upstairs hallway and then down the staircase. I listened closely and heard her moving behind me, following all my steps. The stairs screeched one by one as we both placed the weight of our bodies on them. I couldn't ever remember my own, _real_ stairs making noises this loud. We inched closer to the bottom of the stairs and I looked back to catch a glance at her. Her arms were still wrapped tightly around herself in false security, her eyes still with fear. I stopped on the second last stair and let her catch up with me, instinctively reaching for her hand. Her hand gripped mine just as hard as I held hers. I wasn't scared of this house or what was waiting down these stairs. Instead, what scared me was what was ahead of us. The look in her eyes was the thing that truly had me rattled. That look of something deeper, something that I didn't know. Something fake, and yet something so genuine. It was that look that scared me into thinking that I might loose something I never even had the chance to have.

Our bodies moved towards a place so well known: the kitchen. I usually spent most of my time in here, my room, or the basement, but since this house didn't have a basement, the kitchen would have to do. Within moments we were seated in our regular seats, sitting across from each other at the round table in the centre of the room. It was quiet, neither of us knowing exactly what to say. I mean, what does one say when you told the girl you've hated for two years that your in love with her?

"So..." Was the only thing I could manage to spit out. She looked up and smiled sympathetically, showing that this was just as hard on her.

"We should talk." She spoke. I nodded automatically. She looked up expectantly at me, but I realized that I had no idea how I would start. So I went with the most obvious thing, the safest thing I could think of.

"I'm sorry." And her eyes widened.

"What?" Her body leaned forward, her eyebrows furrowed, her mouth hanging open, "Your sorry?"

"Yeah.." I muttered, "I mean..." My mouth stopped as my mind reeled. How was I going to explain this away? I was thinking of any possible option as an excuse. It was a one time thing? The moment made me feel things I didn't really feel? I wanted to lie and say it, but somewhere I wanted to say the truth. I wanted to get it all out there and not have to hide anymore.

"You think it was a mistake, don't you?" Her voice cut through me. When I met her eyes, I was so confused. "It's- It's okay if you do. I mean, I haven't been the best person to you. I'll understand."

"What?" I whispered. I could hardly concentrate on what was coming from her mouth. It was as if this was all some sort of day dream. I had been sure she would regret it. I'd been positive she had been caught up in the moment, thinking this might be her last chance at love. But now, the morning after, with much more rational thoughts, she was confirming everything I had ever wanted.

"I- uh, I-" I coughed, "I thought- you?- What?" She smiled at my confusion lightly, but her eyes still were sad. I pulled together my thoughts, pushing out every word from my wavering voice before she took it the wrong way. "No- No it.. I don't think it was a mistake. I thought you did..."

"Oh."

"It was... It was perfect." The smile she looked up at me with was so amazing. The secret, the fake in her eyes was gone, "You're perfect."

"You're corny." She laughed, and I cracked a smile in the serious moment. I reached my hand across the table to tangle into hers, and she cheerily shot me a wink. I smiled up at her, and finally felt all right. It felt like everything was falling into place, and for the first time in this roller coaster of events, something was truly right. This was right. _We_ were right.

"Can I tell you something?" Her voice echoed. The two of us sat across the table, playing with our fingers. She looked up to me and I nodded, my eyes furrowing in confusion as I waited. I was anxious about what she was going to tell me, and halfway scared it would be something I wouldn't like.

"Remember when I cut the curl out of your hair?" She asked, a small smile playing on her lips at the memory. Immediately a sour look came onto my face, and I groaned. I had looked so ridiculous because of it, and I'd held such an awful grudge over her for it. "I did it because I think it looks cute," My head shot up, "And I didn't want to think that about you, so I got rid of it."

"But what about the phone prank with Shane?" I asked. If one of her 'pranks' had a logical reason, the others would too. Except I couldn't see anything in making my own brother avoid me.

"I knew I'd be hanging around you guys that week, and since me and Shane hardly see each other, I knew he'd want to chill. I figured if he was avoiding you, and he was hanging out with me, I wouldn't have to see you," She sighed, "and the less I saw you, the less I liked you."

"Oh," My eyebrows furrowed, "The self tanner?"

"That was just for fun," She smirked. I scowled. The moments after that were pretty much a blur. Next to us, the television that had previously been off began to static. My scowl turned confused and I looked up to find her with the exact same expression. Our eyes both shot over to the picture beginning to form on the screen, and I strained to hear the fuzzy words. The television looked almost as if there should have been a pair of bunny ears on top of it, and someone trying to find the right reception.

It took a good few minutes, but finally the picture was clear. I was too confused to even begin to find rational in why the screen would be fuzzy, or even why the tv would turn on by itself. The station was channel three, and there was a woman at the desk. The backdrop had a large Logo, and exclaimed, "7 O'clock Morning News." My stomach churned, and I got a horrible feeling just from the sight of it. Every time I had turned on the news to this station it had been giving me more bad updates on mine and Lola's disappearance. Judging by these news reports, which I couldn't even be certain were real, nothing was getting any better for us. Our situation just kept getting deeper and deeper, and I was starting to wonder just when we'd get out, if we ever did.

She was brunette and looked to be in her thirties. She sat at that black desk with those white notes that held our fate. The suspense was killing me as I waited. The intro music was quieting down, and she was greeting the world with her false smile. And then it came.

"Our top story today is a sad one. Earlier this morning, Malibu police recovered the bodies of Nathaniel Gray and Lola Luftnagle, who were reported missing since Sunday evening." My heart almost stopped as the words reached my ears. I wanted to look over at Lola, but I couldn't tear my eyes from the images.

"The bodies of both teens were found in a downtown warehouse by Jacqueline James, sixteen, and Kimberly Kozlowski, seventeen. Both bodies were mildly charred, which police are investigating, but were identified by their families, along with fingerprints, and dental records.

"Holly Luftnagle was unavailable to release a comment, and a Representative of the Gray family has assured us that they are terribly upset over the loss. Please tune in to the six o'clock news for updates on this tragic event, as we move onto our next story." The report was short and simple, but still ever shocking. We were dead, but yet we were alive. My throat was constricting, and I suddenly felt claustrophobic in here. We were _dead_, and now no one would be looking for us.

"Lola?" My voice squeaked out. My eyes shot to her, and she looked stunned. My hand, still tangled in hers, squeezed gently to gain her attention. It worked, and she slowly looked over to me, her jaw hung open.

"I can't be dead." Was all she said. Her eyes dug into me, but at the same time saw right past me as if I was invisible. Her face was draining of colour, except for the bruise that slowly was sliding away. I could feel her hand shaking beneath mine lightly, and her breathing came out ragged.

"It's a lie," She spoke. Her eyes looked up to me, scrunching up in confusion, "They don't have my dental records... I don't have any." My face mirrored the confusion on hers, but clearly not for the same reason. She didn't have dental records? I'd say it had to be impossible, since her smile was perfection.

"I don't have any records at all. I don't have fingerprints." She mumbled. Unconsciously, I turned her hands palm up and played with the pads of her fingers. I brushed my own fingerprints over hers, just watching them and looking them over. I didn't have a clue what she was talking about since her prints were there, clearly on her fingers right beneath my own.

"This means they're getting close," My own tone matched hers. The solemn, defeated tone that took away some of the hope in me. "He doesn't want them to find us, so he made us disappear permanently."

"No!" Lola blurted out, frustrated, as she pulled her hand away from mine. Her fingers ran through her long vibrant red hair and tugged lightly at it, "You don't understand." The look on my face only encouraged her to go on.

"There are no records, no anything. I don't have fingerprints, or dental records, or a health chart. There isn't any family to identify me, because I'm not even alive. I don't exist," She cried, "Don't you get it?! There is _no_ Lola Luftnagle, so I can't be dead."

"Oh god! Oliver's going to figure it out. He's going to wonder why the police have files when there aren't any," Her eyes immediately lit up, and she jumped from her chair to hug me. I sat stock still with her arms around me, not understanding a word she had spoken. She had gone on some sort of crazed mumbling spree and spat out anything she had deemed logical in that mind of hers. She was a living, breathing person with her arms around me, so she was most definitely alive and she did in fact exist.

"Lola, calm down," I pried her arms away from me. I lifted myself from the chair, putting my own death to the back of my mind for a moment. I wanted to figure out just what she was talking about. "What do you mean? Of course you're alive, your right here in front of me." My hands brushed over her cheek just to prove that she was real.

"That's just the thing," She nuzzled against my hand, smiling, "I'm not. Everything they have is a lie. They won't stop looking for me." She seemed so eerily calm about this, and it was starting to set chills up my spine. Something about her was just so sure about what she was saying, like nothing I could say would make it wrong. Maybe this all was getting to be too much for her, maybe she was delusional. She wanted so badly to get out, that perhaps she was trying to find every reason not to loose her hope.

"Your scaring me, Lola." I whispered, bringing my lips to her cheek and trying to bring her out of whatever trance she was trapped in. I felt the tug, and then she pulled away from me. When I opened my eyes, she was backing away slowly from me, watching the look of doubt on my face.

"You don't believe me, do you?" She whispered. Her voice broke my heart, and all I could do was look at her with sadness. It was that look that screamed, 'I'm sorry, but your not making any sense,'. It was exactly the look I knew she didn't want to see. When I didn't respond, her face turned into one that was defeated and betrayed. Her feet tiptoed backwards and away from me and when I took a step forward she jumped back, her arms winding around herself again.

"Lola, come on-"

"Don't call me that," She interrupted, shaking her head, "There is no Lola." I took another step forward, and she took one back. I sighed at her resistance, but continued to try. We froze for a moment, just watching each other until she took me by surprise. She took a step closer, and then another. I wanted to move forward, but I was terrified she'd move away. Her feet padded on the floor lightly, almost like she was floating towards me with such grace. When she was mere centimetres from me, I pulled her into my arms and let her cry.

We were quiet, and she was sniffling. She wasn't shaking, or sobbing terribly, she was just shedding a few solitary tears. My hand rubbed up and down her back and I whispered into her ear, trying to calm her down and avoiding saying her name because it seemed to set her off. The moment was short, and before long she calmed down considerably and pulled away from me.

"Lilly," She whispered, looking down at the floor.

"What?" I asked, not sure what she meant. She sniffled and crossed her arms across her chest.

"My name is Lilly."

"Lilly?"

"Yeah." She looked up at me and I couldn't even begin to decipher the look in her eyes. It was honest and true, with this tiny hint of fear and regret. She fidgeted, playing with her fingernails until it seemed she came to a decision. Her hands reached up, playing with her strands of hair again and tugged at them. Her fingers wove expertly through her hair and I could hear light snaps as she traced her scalp. Before I knew what was happening, the red was being detached, falling out in clumps as if she was removing clip in extensions. I froze entirely, and my eyes grew wider as I watched all the red turn to blond. She pulled the blond hair from a bun that rested on her head, and when she shook it out it fell in light curls around her shoulders. It took my breath away.

"Nate?" She asked, and I tried my hardest to shake away the shock. It wasn't that big of a difference, I mean, I could still so easily recognize her. I'd seen Lola with purple hair, and lime green bobs, so long blond hair didn't change her entirely. It was just something I hadn't expected from her. It was so normal, and so ordinary. Somewhere in the back of my mind I should have known that her hair would have never been able to survive all the constant colour changes, but I hadn't thought of this. This is what she meant when she said she didn't exist? She meant she was someone else? She was fake?

"You lied to me." Was all I could spit out. The betrayal came over my body, and I realized this was all a sham. The girl I'd spent two years of rivalry with wasn't real. The girl who I'd fallen in love with was a fake. There was no Lola. I understood that this girl, Lilly, was still the same girl I'd shared these memories with, but there was something so different about it. I'd trusted her and I'd protected her, and she had lied.

"No- No, I- I'm still the same," She looked afraid. She stepped towards me, and it was my turn to step back.

"You lied." I spat again, my eyebrows creasing. The look that crossed her face in that second made every feeling of betrayal disappear from every part of my body. The regret radiated from me as that single tear fell from her eye.

"I thought you loved me," Her voice stung. Her breaths came out low and her eyes shot to the ground. Thats when I realized that, Lola or Lilly, she was still the same person and her hair colour would never change those feelings.

"Lola- Lil- I- I do," I stammered, and the floorboards squeaked as I moved across the floor to meet her. Her eyes shot up to me, angry and determined. I was inches from her when her hand shot out, pressing against my chest. She pushed me away from her, and glared deep into my eyes.

"I lied about last night," She spoke dangerously low, "It _was_ a mistake_._" And with that she shoved me one last time and darted up the stairs. She left me standing there, alone and feeling like the worst person in the world. Whatever we had before with insults and pranks had been so easy, but this was so complicated, but whether it was complicated or not, it was something I had grown to love. I realized she was something I needed, and something I didn't want to let go, but in this moment I had done just that. I had let her fall short from me, and I hadn't reached out to grab our opportunity. I'd let go of the one person I had wanted to hold forever, and I didn't know what I'd do if I didn't get her back. But if I was being honest, the truth was that I never had her in the first place. And while last night may have been a mistake to her, the only mistake I could say I made was that in this moment, clouded by the hurt and the anger, I chose not to chase after my forever.

**A/N: Hopefully you guys don't hate me for the fight, but believe me, it was necessary. There are anywhere from three to five chapters left, depending on how things play out. A few questions though. Would you rather see the ABY end on Nate's POV or Lilly's? And Would you like to see a sequel to this story, depending on the ending? Instead of doing a TW sequel, I was debating on doing one for ABY. I think TW ended on a rather good note, and I know many of you wanted to see a sequel, and a plot was in the works, but I really don't think there's much more of a story to tell. If anyone is absolutely dead set on a sequel to TW, PM me, but otherwise, I don't think it's going to happen. So anyways, tell me what you liked about this chapter, or what you didn't. What would you like to see more of, or less of? One more thing, Throughout this entire story, what has been your favourite line?**

**Review please! Ps. I love the long reviews you guys have been sending in lately. Keep 'em coming.**


	13. Chapter 13: Lilly

**A/N: Oh my. It's been forever, hasn't it? I sincerely apologize for the delay. I'm not going to make excuses or make this any longer than it has to be. I'm just going to apologize for how excruciatingly long it took to get this up. If your still reading after this, I adore you to the ends of the earth. All previous chapters have not been changed at all except for the names. Even the authors notes are the same. This chapter is dedicated to any former readers who are still actually reading this. I promise to update more and finish this story, now that its reposted and legal.**

**ps. I apologize if the chapter isn't that great. I haven't had the time to write in a while, so I'm a little (or a lot) rusty.**

Anyone But You

Chapter Thirteen

Darkness. It was the only thing that I could come up with to explain this situation. It was the only word to describe my every emotion. It was the only word to illustrate my surroundings. The pit of my stomach was clenching tightly, and I could feel the spin in my head. This wasn't how it was supposed to play out. This wasn't how it was supposed to end up. I had never really planned, but if I had, this never would have been the outcome I expected. This was too... unforgivable. Too hard to forget, and too hard to leave behind. Lies. The only word to replace the darkness.

I was lies, and lies, and nothing more. I was a lie, a liar, a fake, a _mistake_. This was all a mistake to me. Every moment, every word, every time the clock ticked. Every hug, every touch, and every _kiss._ Lies, fakes, mistakes, and more importantly, gone. But as much as I could convince myself of this, I couldn't. I had that nagging feeling in the back of my head that told me I was wrong. That told me that as much as I wanted it to end here and now, that it would never end. That this would consume me for a life time. That as much as I hated it, I had to come to terms that this was what I really wanted, and no amount of security should let it slip away from me. I should let this constant change, and grow, and become something new I could depend on. But I couldn't. I couldn't for as long as I was a liar. And I knew I was.

I had let my guard down, and let my lies escape me. The truth I had spoke before was my every thought, my every feeling. But it all came from lies. And now that he knew those lies, I had suddenly changed in his eyes. Was I not his vision of perfection? Was I not everything he wanted me to be? Did he not trust me anymore? Did he think that this one lie meant that everything I had ever said was fake? These were the questions swirling amidst the darkness. These were the thoughts that I couldn't forget. And even if he should hate me for forever and eternity, I took that opportunity. I took the opportunity to save him. To save him from himself, and more importantly, from these walls. These walls that held him captive, and these walls that promised our death. I never told him that I was to blame, and he would never have to know.

As I replayed that memory, I watched myself run from him. I watched myself run up the steps, leaving the pieces of the wig laying on the floor. The memory encompassed me and I could hear myself slam the bedroom door shut, I felt my fingers grab the chair and lean it up against the door frame in case he should come after me. I waited for his bangs, and his calls, but they never did come. I waited for the apologies he should have said, and the apologies I would have ignored. I waited, and still I waited. I knew I was okay when I heard the soft creaking of the steps on the staircase. I heard the floorboards creak, and I heard his own door open, and then slam shut. My breath left me in that moment, and thats when I came back to life. I had crept out of Shane's room and led myself back down the stairs, gathering the wig. I attached it back into my hair, trying to be what he wanted. What he thought was real. What he would never know was that everything I was when I was with him was real. What he would never know was that everything I was about to do was real, and I would never fake it for the world.

And as I left that memory behind me, I sat. I sat in this darkness, waiting just like I had waited before, but for an entirely different reason. My body shook as I leaned up against the washing machine in the laundry room with the lights off. The phone was in my hand and I was still. Soon. It would happen soon, I was sure of it, but I just didn't know exactly when. The thoughts scared me, but I had to. For him. To save him. And to save, you had to sacrifice.

I felt the phone in my hands and I sucked in a breath. If they had any decency at all, they would let me do this. But who was I kidding, to even assume they had a decent cell in their bodies. To assume that they would _let_ me do anything would be stupid of me. But I would try, because at this point thats all I could do.

My fingers pressed the familiar buttons that I had called almost every day since I had met her. I had pressed these buttons so many times that I knew how they should sound when you dialed it. I listened closely as I clicked each one, sure that this would be the last time I would ever hear it. And then I waited. And the rings came, and they kept coming. As each one met my ear, my heart jumped higher into my throat. As each one came, I worried more and more that she wouldn't answer. That I would never get to talk to her ever again. As each one came -

"Hello?" I heard the quiet voice on the other end. I could hardly even be sure that it was her. It was clouded by sniffles and what I was sure was tears. She was crying, wasn't she? Didn't she know? I couldn't possibly be dead if they had found _Lola_.

"Miley?" I could hardly believe it was my own voice. I sounded scared, and weak, and innocent. I sounded like nothing I had ever heard myself sound like before. But my voice had this air of knowledge about it. Like I _knew_,and there was nothing else I could say to describe it. I just knew, and I did know. I knew what was about to happen next and I knew this could be the last time I ever spoke to my best friend.

"Lilly? No. no. no. no," She yelled, "No, no, no, no, no!" I hadn't expected a reaction quite like this one. "Who the _hell_ is this, this isn't funny!"

"It's me." I whispered, almost too calm for the situation.

"No," She whispered back, sniffling, "Lilly?"

"Yeah, Miley, I swear."

"Where are you? Are you okay? Please, just tell me anything." She spoke with urgency in her voice. She was frantic, speaking as quickly as possible as if I could die any second. And honestly, I could. But I knew I wouldn't. It was Nate that I was worried about. He was the one who was really on the line.

"I'll be okay, I promise," I told her. I'm not sure that she would take it in the same way I meant, but if it gave her any peace of mind, then it was fine. But it was true, I would be okay. Perhaps not anytime soon, but I would be... eventually.

"Miley, will you do me one thing?" I asked her, sniffling as well. I coughed a bit, and it pained my stomach. I was still littered in bruises, and some of the cuts were reopening on my body. But still, I was going to be okay.

"Anything Lilly," She spoke quickly, seemingly out of breath, "Just- Where are you, please tell me."

"I don't know," I whispered honestly, "But please..." Deep breaths. Deep breaths. It was the only thing I could think of to keep me calm. "Tell my mom I love her, and tell Oliver that I'm going to miss him so much. Tell him to be careful, please, and to watch out for himself." I told her, thinking of all the late days Oliver would be spending with Miller at the police station. It scared me to think that Miller might do something, anything to him. It scared me to think that Miller would even go free.

"Lilly, don't talk like that," Miley cried on the other end, "You're going to-"

"Miley, don't make this harder than it has to be," I pleaded and she quieted. "Tell Jason he's amazing, and tell Shane that I'm sorry. Don't stop looking, we're not dead," I didn't dare to add 'not yet anyways' to my statement because I wasn't sure how true it would be for me, "And when you find Nate, tell him that..." I choked up, my eyes watering and my voice cracking, "Tell him it wasn't a mistake."

That was the last I could say because the phone went dead. The dial tone echoed throughout the dark room and I was back to square one. Waiting. And thats all I could do until the darkness completely came and until the night came to steal me away. Until I would have to give up everything to give my everything a second chance. But that was okay.

Everything would be alright eventually, that much I knew. In moments or hours or days I would forget all about this and it would all become memories lost in the commotion. I would never have to put brick after brick on my guard walls, and I would never have to clean up the mess when I let them come crashing down. Every heart ache would disappear and every laugh would vanish. The good and the bad would be neither good nor bad, or even in existence. It would be gone and I would do it all to save every memory and good and bad, every laugh and tear and brick that he would ever have. Because that was more important than any memory I would ever have. Not only because he meant this much to me, but because I was the cause. I was the butterfly flap that set off the tsunami half way across the world. He should have had no play in this board game, but I had unwillingly and unknowingly gave him his dice to roll. I signed his death certificate and the only way to erase it was to sign my own. The pen wrote easily and the signature was permanent. It would be over, and I was glad.

I sat in that laundry room for what must have been hours. Perhaps Miller knew I was awaiting his arrival so he kept me in suspense. He wanted me to be afraid, to listen to every creak and squeak of the floorboards and to close my eyes in fear. He wanted me to think about what I was waiting for and what kind of opportunity I was giving him. And I did. I thought about it all and I envisioned every moment in my head. I anticipated and I feared, but I didn't go back. When I thought about Nate, those thoughts over powered every memory of Miller. Nate's smile, his laugh, his face when he was angry. These were the memories that helped me to endure, and these were the only things that kept me going. I knew that doing this would give him the chance to keep that smile, that laugh and the fire in his eyes. And the butterflies fluttered just a little louder, almost to the point where I could hardly hear the squeaks and creeks that I was sure Miller wanted me to be afraid of. However, the fear still settled in my soul, deeper than the butterflies could ever reach. By now though, the fear that I had begun to feel was gone as I slipped into that unconscious ease. The towel wrapped around my face and I breathed in delightfully and pleasantly, knowing it would give me the peace I so desperately needed in this moment. I didn't fight back, and I didn't scream one note. I went easily and I was prepared to make a bargain. I would give him what he wanted in return for my one last wish. The one last wish that slipped my mind as the darkness came over me in an entirely different way than the lights simply being switched off as I sat blindly in the laundry room. This darkness was one of uncertainty, but it left me hanging as all my thoughts disappeared and all my worries vanished. There was no hope, no fear, no love. In this moment, with my head lolled to the side as Miller carried me away, I simply _was._

The state that I had wanted so badly didn't last nearly as long as I wanted it too. The eerie calm lasted for what seemed like mere seconds, but I knew it must have been so much longer. My body was cold, and I wanted to shiver, but I didn't. My eyes felt motionless, as if I didn't even have the energy to open them. I willed my fingers to move, but they didn't. I was too tired, too drained to move just an inch. Surprisingly though, my skin didn't ache. It didn't hurt or burn and I felt no new scratches or bruises forming. I felt cared for and I allowed myself to fall into a sense of security. I had no reason to believe that Miller would treat me in such a careful way, and I couldn't even be sure that Miller was the one who had taken me away to wherever I currently was.

Thats when the burning came on every millimetre of my skin. The little burning as each hair on my body stood straight and the fear slowly slid back into my soul. The back of my forehead had that prickling sensation and I felt everything slow down. I stopped for a moment and thought. I had to stop and seriously ask myself if I was even alive anymore. My body wouldn't move and the pain had disappeared. The cold surrounded me and yet I couldn't shake or react to it. Was this what it was like to die? To just feel and be nothing? However I had to wonder why I could feel the cold and yet no pain? Why I could feel the fear and yet no hope or happiness? I couldn't be dead. This couldn't possibly be all there was left for me. I couldn't have given everything up just to experience _this_ forever. This was worth it though, if Nate was alright. It would all be worth it if he made it though and if he laughed and loved and smiled forever.

Three seconds. Thats how long it took for this entire scenario to shatter. I couldn't move, but I could hear the footsteps in the distance. I could hear the voices, and the voice of one that I knew all too well. The cold in his voice took my mind off the cold pressing deeper into my body, and the shiver that I could never shiver before came as his tone sent chills down my spine. The feeling of nothingness and fear was one I desperately wanted back as the reality overcame me. I wasn't dead, but what I had thought was dead was better than this. I couldn't deny it though, I had placed myself in this situation. I had isolated myself and taunted him and begged him almost to take me away. Now that I was face to face with the moment, I wasn't sure I had prepared myself enough. One memory was all it took though. The one memory of Nathaniel Gray was the only thing I needed to get through. The scene played through my head over and over. Our legs were intertwined and our bodies were pressed together tightly. His lips were molding over mine and his voice was whispering the I love yous that I would desperately need to replay. My eyes squeezed tighter as my mind raced through it over and over and over until it suddenly hit stop.

"Morning Sweetheart," His voice spoke and I felt specs of his saliva fall onto my face. In that moment, my entire body came back to life and I felt myself wanting to gasp for air. I didn't. I didn't move despite the fact that moments before it would have been all I could ever ask for. I stayed as still as possible and slowly my eyes squinted open. Light surrounded me as it peeked through the blinds, which had been closed. From that house I had learned not to trust the light and dark as everything could be fake and fabricated. For all I knew it could be midnight, not what seemed to be the morning. Then again, he did say _morning_ didn't he? But he could be trusted just about as much as the light could.

My eyes slowly trailed over him and I wanted to be sick. He had the merciless smile strewn across his face as he looked at me. His teeth were white, and he smiled at me with something I couldn't place. The blond hair was disheveled and the honey eyes were distracted for the moment. I couldn't believe someone like him could ever be so cruel. If I had ever passed him on the street before I would never have second guessed him. He just looked so... so put together. So _normal._ He didn't fit the cookie cutter for a killer or a psychopath, but I guess thats what made him so much harder to catch.

He had the ins and outs of the system too, I knew. He was a cop, a police officer and could add or remove anything he wanted from the case. Thats probably why it was so simple for him to fake mine and Nate's untimely deaths. He wanted them to stop looking, so he gave them a reason to. Little did he know, he added more suspicion rather than take it away. Perhaps he didn't even realize his mistake. How could he when he didn't know that they weren't looking for Lola, but rather Lilly.

His eyes darted back to me as he leaned up against a table. The room was one that was similar to our last encounter. I laid against the concrete floor, propped up against the wall that was made of the same gray material. He held a coffee cup in one hand, and just looked at me with sick adoration. I couldn't understand why he wasn't his usual self. His usual disgusting menacing self. He hadn't touched me or hit me or even said anything except to tell me good morning. I eyed him questioningly, but still never moved.

"Come," He spoke with kindness, "Have some coffee." Why the _hell_ was he acting like this?

Slowly, I lifted myself off the concrete and stood, keeping my distance. I shuffled forward, suspicious and let my eyes dart around the room cautiously. I wasn't one for coffee and I definitely wasn't one for this fake sense of security he wanted me to fall into.

"Sit." He growled, and immediately I moved forward and into a chair. He passed me a mug of coffee and sat opposite me. The smile on his face never faded and he had a sense of lies surrounding his every move. I couldn't place just what his motives were for doing this.

"I searched every source imaginable, but I couldn't find what you liked in your coffee. I hope this is okay," He pushed the cup forward, daring me to drink it. I didn't want to. I knew what he was capable of and the only thought that crossed my mind was poison.

"But that's what I like about you," He smiled, narrowing his eyes and staring me down, "Your so _mysterious_." I moved nervously, looking anywhere but at him. I didn't want to do something that would set him off. Something that would make him want to hurt me or Nate. I would go along with it as long as I possibly could. I just didn't know how far I would be able to make myself go.

"Where's Nate?" We were silent until I asked. His head lifted up from the folder he was looking at. His face seemed angry, and I watched as he sucked in a breath and ran his tongue across his teeth. His shoulders were tense and it looked like he was trying not to explode on me. He closed his eyes for a mere few moments before opening them and staring deep into my soul.

"Don't worry _sweetie_," He coughed out, still angered, "Nate's exactly where he belongs." The statement scared me. What did that mean? I had intended for this to save Nate, not put him six feet under. I just hoped to God he wasn't dead.

"I want you to let him go," I demanded, gaining the strength to overcome my fear. Miller seemed slightly taken aback at this request. He squinted his eyes at me and swallowed.

"He is _exactly_ where he belongs."

"No." I demanded, my own anger rising. I wasn't going to let this go until I knew that the sacrifice I made would place him out of harms way. I wasn't doing this for nothing. "I want you to let him go. If he's dead, so help me god, I'll-" He cut me off.

"You'll what?" He roared, pushing the file away from himself and standing. He leaned across the table, breathing deeply and ragged. The cruelness that had been missing came back the instant that I defied him. My eyes darted back and forth between his and I wasn't sure just what I had intended on doing. He had caught me off guard, but my mouth rattled on.

"Why do you want me?" I questioned, veering completely off topic, "Why do I interest you? Why are you so intent on keeping me isolated and beating me until I'm covered in bruises?" I felt my own body stand from the chair. He stared at me, shrinking back as I shot question after question at him. Questions that he and I both knew he couldn't answer.

"Do you think that pain makes me want you? Do you think that hurting Nate will make me forget about him?" I seethed. My hand found its way across the table, swiping at the coffee cups and making them tumble to the ground. They reached the floor with a crack and I felt the liquid seep across my bare feet.

"Lola Luftnagle," He spoke. He moved his body from his seat and I froze in place, my strength suddenly gone. He slinked towards me, coming up behind me and pressing himself against my back. I didn't dare to move. I felt the gun slide up to my side and his lips pulled themselves to my ear, whispering.

"Why do you resist me?" He spoke with such confidence. "You ask so many questions, but can you answer me this?" He thought he had me trapped, but it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Because I love Nate," His breathing stopped and the gun pressed into me, "Because nothing you do will ever make me stop loving him." I felt the cold barrel against my hip and the cold heart of the man behind me. Did he really think that I would ever love him. Did he really think that his obsession could ever channel into something appealing to me. As far as I was concerned, he was sick. He had a problem, and the mysteries surrounding Lola Luftnagle were the only thing that truly intrigued him. He didn't like anything about me. He liked what he couldn't figure out.

"If you care at all about me, or if you have one ounce of goodness in your body, you will let him go," I spoke. The pressure on my side deepened.

"You confuse me," The voice echoed in my ear, "You leave him, and you wait for me to take you away. You choose me, and yet you love him." He spat. The gun left my side and he stepped away from me. He was furious, that much I knew.

"Where do you live Lola? Who's your family?" He roared, "Do you know how fucking hard I worked to create a life for you? To create fingerprints and records, just so that I could _fake your death_.Where did you come from?! Everyone has to come from fucking somewhere!"

"But not you," He quieted down, turning away from me, "I don't care for you, bitch. You confuse me. I have never not been able to figure someone out until you. Six years ago. There was just something about you, something so utterly confusing and fake. So I looked you up Lola. You don't exist. It's impossible that you could be standing here in front of me when you don't exist. And yet you are." He explained. I stayed quiet the entire time.

"Do you know why your not dead?" He questioned. My head shook slightly to answer, "Because when you die, so do all your fucking answers. And your answers, they entice me. All my life I've wanted something that was _real_. But you. Your not real." He stepped closer to me, reaching out and grabbing my face. His hand pressed deeply into my bruise and I winced.

"Do you feel?" He inquired menacingly, pressing harder and harder against my skin. "Do you feel anything at all? Do you know what _I_ feel?"

"I've searched everywhere. I have spent countless hours trying to figure you out. I want those answers, and I want _you_."

"Then let Nate go," Was all I said. It came out emotionless and plain, as if I hadn't listened to a single word he had been saying. His rage got the better of him and his nails dug into the side of my face. His other hand found its way to my waist, digging itself in there. I couldn't feel the pain, I was immune to it by now. The fact that I didn't react just made it even worse.

"Maybe you'll be a little more eager to speak when _Nate_ has a bullet in his head." Was all he said as his touch left my body and he swiftly moved away from me. Before I could react, he stepped across his folder, swung open a door and closed it. The second the lock clicked, I fell. The sacrifice I had tried to make had blown up in my face. Did Miller not see that if he had promised to let Nate go I would have given in. I would have molded to his every need and been his perfect sweetheart, had he promised me that Nate would be okay. But the death certificate I had signed for myself was really just a carbon copy of Nate's.

I let myself fall in that moment. My guard came down, and I landed on my knees. My eyes were wide and red, brimming with unwanted tears. The world was slowing down, my mind was pressing up against my forehead, banging, banging. Pressing, pressing. Waiting for the explosion. Waiting for it all to be over. Nothing came. Nothing ever came. Nothing but this solitary confinement and the complete slow motion of everything around me. The headache was pounding, beating mercilessly against my skull. I just wanted to scream out for it to stop. I wanted the blood to stop in my veins and my heart to cease beating. I wanted time to rewind, to keep going all the way back to the beginning. Before any of this ever had a chance to happen.

My eyes trailed over the ground and my knees crawled towards the discarded file. I let my shaky hands sift through the papers and I found my photo. _Lilly Truscott._ This was my missing persons case. He had been assigned to the case that he had created, and yet he couldn't figure it out. In this file were the fingerprints and the health records that he had been searching for, but could never find. All the answers he had ever wanted were right in front of him. The mysteries that enticed him were right here, and the information that kept me alive was at my fingertips. While this was the information that kept me alive, it was also the mystery that was about to place a gun to Nate's skull. I could see that now, and I was afraid. I was terrified that he would die. But mostly, I was scared that he would never know that it wasn't a mistake.

**A/N:** **I've decided that there will only be _two_ more chapters left following this one. If anyone has any ideas they may like to add into the story, tell me and I'll consider them. Also, any predictions? One really big question though. How would you feel about Nate posssssibly dying? I thought you guys might take it really negatively, so I'm asking first. Anyways, Please review. I used to adore your long ones, so give me something inspiring to read.**

**Review please!**


	14. Chapter 14: Nate&Oliver

**A/N: Thank you guys _so much_ for the reviews. It means so much to know that people are still reading this and liking it after being gone for such a long period of time. This chapter is dedicated to those of you who reviewed, especially peacelovejonas who reviewed every single chapter again, since the previous reviews were deleted. That really made me smile, thank you. Anyways, so since many of you took Nate dying negatively, as predicted, I put a different spin on it, and it plays out a bit differently now. But you'll have to read to find out the changes. I hope chapter fourteen meets your standards, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

Anyone But You

Chapter Fourteen

I was running through every word and every movement over and over and over again. My mind was on a constant repeat and I couldn't help but think of everything I could have said and could have done. But I didn't. I hadn't done anything at all. I hadn't run after her like her knight in shining armor and I hadn't apologized like the gentleman I had always thought I was. I had only stood there for as long as I possibly could. Nothing. In those moments after her last few words to me I wasn't capable of doing anything at all. It was a mistake. It was a mistake. The rewind replayed it over and over and I couldn't bring myself to apologize because whether or not she realized it, she had hurt me more in that one moment than I think I could ever do to her, intentionally or not.

To know that she thought it was a mistake was devastating. I'm not sure if I've ever had one of those moments that change everything in your life, but if I did, this was definitely it. The girl who I had fallen for, this girl who had carved a place in my heart, was slowly eating me away from the inside out. Something that I had thought was so real, something so meaningful and amazing and beautiful; a memory that I thought I could always go back to had now been forever tampered with. Now it was meaningless. A moment in time, just another kiss, another smile, another girl. But she never really would be _just_ another girl. This was a girl who had made my life hell for two years and continued to do so well after I'd given in. This was all I could deal with. I should have given up on her so long ago, but I guess it finally takes something so drastic as this to realize it. I had made it my duty to be everything she could ever need in her moments of weakness, and I was repaid with the knowledge of being nothing more than a mistake.

Unlike her though, I couldn't say that anything had ever been a mistake. It was just another experience for me and I would eventually find some good in it, find something to take out of it. The key word in that was eventually, because at the present time I couldn't comprehend ever finding a reason not to consider it a mistake. But still, it wasn't a mistake, I knew, and I hoped that my reason would come. I hoped it would come soon, and I hoped that somehow things were going to be okay.

My feet found their way to the stairs and they echoed loudly throughout the house as I climbed the staircase loudly. With each step I could feel my heart beat harder and harder the closer I got to her. As much as I hated to admit it, She would always have that place in my heart carved out just for her. But even though she had that place, and she set off the butterflies that I had grown so used to, it wouldn't matter. It was too late to apologize now. It wasn't simply that the moment was a mistake, but she had previously led me to believe that it wasn't. She had pulled my heart strings at that kitchen table, said she meant it and then tore it all away from me. Ripped that memory from my hands and ruined it. I would never be able to look at that night, this entire experience, or more importantly, _her_ the same ever again. Those four words changed it all. It was a mistake.

I walked that hallway as if the ground was made of glass. My feet treaded slowly and carefully, and the floorboards squeaked beneath me. My eyes trailed lightly to where I knew she would be. Shane's room. My eyes lingered there much longer than I intended, and I couldn't help but wonder if I should go to her. I wondered it, but I didn't. She'd made it clear that she didn't need me anymore. She'd made it obvious that I was just another _mistake_. And maybe she was right. Maybe I was. Maybe she'd do just fine without me, and maybe she just didn't need me anymore. Or maybe this was all some sick prank that had gone way too far, but I didn't think even she was capable of that.

I slammed my door that night when I finally went into my room. I pulled it shut as hard as I possibly could, trying anything to get that lasting anger out. I was confused and so out of place. I wanted to apologize, and yet I also wanted one from her. I wanted to forgive her and at the same time I wanted to cut her from my life entirely. I didn't even know what I should be mad at because deep down she still seemed so blameless to me. I wanted so desperately to blame myself just so that I'd be responsible for the apology I could so easily say. Just so that I could fix everything and get that feeling back. The one where I was on top of the world and nothing else mattered. But I was better than that.

I wandered around that room, pacing until I couldn't think anymore. At some point during the night I was sure that I had heard the floor creaking outside my door, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I wanted to rip that door open, and I wanted to see if it was her sneaking down for a snack or one of our captors, but I didn't. I was too stuck on obsessing over her mistake. God, why did I even care so much? Why did it matter and why did it hit me so deep. No dig or remark had ever settled in me quite like this did, and frankly, it scared me. I didn't want to think about this forever, and I knew I needed to let it go. I couldn't replay it for the rest of my life, but I was so afraid that that might be the only thing I could do. So instead of replaying it for the countless time, I let my head hit that soft, tempting pillow. I let my eyes close that night and I let myself drift off without her by my side. For this one night I left her alone and I didn't try to keep her safe or keep her protected. Thoughts of her itched in the back of my mind, but as I tried my best to get some sleep, they were quickly silenced by a word, and one word only: Mistake.

As soon as my mind drifted into that thoughtless slumber it seemed like it was ripped out from under me. My head was hazy and I felt myself drifting in and out of an artificial consciousness. I'm sure that my eyelids weighed a thousand pounds and it was getting increasingly difficult just to open my eyes. Each time I tried, I could see sunlight. It was streaming in through a window, but slightly obscured by a set of blinds. I squinted, and it burned my eyes. Oh god, how long had I been asleep for? My mind wandered and I couldn't seem to keep it set on one topic. My head kept tilting from side to side and I'm sure that I must have groaned a few times. As soon as I could register anything besides the fact that I was awake, the second thing I realized was my splitting headache. Not that I ever drank, but I was sure that this must have been what a hangover felt like.

I tried desperately to reach a hand up to my head, but my arms seemed much too heavy. They wouldn't even move an inch from their current position. Instead, I opted to close my eyes again, resting against the back of the chair I was sitting in. Oh god, my head. It felt like someone had put a metal pole through it. It was almost as if- Wait. Chair?

My eyes whipped open, despite the fact that I was currently in an almost vampire state. The last thing I could remember was falling asleep in a bed, in a room much like my own, but wasn't. Instead here I _sat_ in a _chair_, in a room like nothing I had ever seen. The walls were gray and made of concrete. There was a door on one side of the room that was open and a staircase was beyond it, leading to where I could only guess was upstairs. My eyes rapidly searched the room in front of me for anything at all. It was mostly empty with just a table and a couple of chairs and nothing else. I tried to think of where I could be or if I had any recollection of ever being here before. I didn't. I was positive.

To say the least, confusion took over every part of my body. My headache pounded and I could almost hear it. My heart beats followed the same quick pulse as my headache and my breathing was fast and irregular. I wanted a paper bag more than anything to stop the hyperventilating. My arms hurt almost to the point of burning whenever I tried to move them. Looking down, I saw them bound by ropes that kept me sitting tightly in the chair. I moved my hands expertly, remembering from some far away experience at camp how to loosen the knots. They weren't great knots or anything, so they came loose without much work, but it did take a bit of time to loosen them enough to get enough room for my hands to almost fully untie them. Thats when I heard it and thats when I froze. It was a groan from what I had believed to be empty space behind me.

My head turned first, and then my body. The ropes that I had been working on loosened enough in that one moment and I was able to rip them from the chair. I've heard of people having a sudden burst of superhuman strength in certain situations, but never did I think it would happen to me.

"No, no, no, no, no," The words left my mouth and my eyes were wide. I heard my knees hit the floor as I crawled forwards, unable to move my vision anywhere else. I could look no where but at her. Leaving her alone last night was the worst mistake I could have ever made. It was a much worse mistake than hers ever could be.

She laid against the cold, gray cement, motionless. The large gray t-shirt I had given her before was ripped in so many places. She was wearing the black short shorts that I had washed for her what seemed like less than an hour ago. I couldn't even begin to describe the feelings that shot through me in that moment. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be all there was for us.

The floor was stained. It was stained with all the promises I had broken and all the things that would go unsaid. Her blood spilled from so many places and I couldn't even begin to comprehend the pain she was undoubtedly in. It was all because of me. I felt the sticky substance between my fingers and I wanted to die. It was everywhere. There was no spot in that corner of the room that wasn't some shade of red. It was all over her skin, bloody fingerprints pressed into her legs and hips. She had triple the bruises than what I had last seen her with and it killed me. It killed me to know that I had let this happen to her.

Her red extensions had been pulled out in chunks. It didn't matter though, because whatever was blond was covered in crimson anyways. She groaned again and tried to open her eyes. The blood stuck to her lashes and had dried across her face. How long had she been like this? How long had he left her here to die? I didn't even know how someone could live with themselves knowing that they had done this to someone. Thats when I realized that it wasn't too late to apologize, because no apologies were needed. I didn't need an "I'm sorry," all I needed was for her to live.

"Lilly please," I spoke, swallowing the lump in my throat and delicately reaching my hand out to her. I touched her face softly and her eyes blinked up at me with an unimaginable amount of hurt and sadness in them. Silently, I shook my head, unable to do anything else. My eyes looked her over, every piece. No. It was the only thought running through my mind. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't possibly be real. I was seventeen for godsake! Things like this shouldn't happen! But it was. And I could do nothing about it. I was helpless and I knew I was. I was so out of my element and I didn't have an ounce of control. I hated it, and I hated _him_ for doing this to us.

"You're going to be okay," Each syllable echoed off the walls, "You _have_ to be okay." My voice was cracking and she was staring up at me. I couldn't look away. That look was something that would haunt me forever, but I kept the connection. I kept it with every ounce of strength because I wasn't sure how long her eyes would stay open for.

"I'll try," She whispered, smiling. As soon as she said it, she seemed to gain strength. That look of hurt and pain didn't seem as awful anymore, and her smile was growing bigger with each second. She stared deeply into my eyes and I knew that this girl was the girl I was going to spend my entire life with. I would look back and wonder why we ever fought and think about all the time we had wasted at each other's throats. We could have been happy long before this, but I'll forever be grateful for the experience because this is what made us realize how much we needed each other. This is what made me realize that I loved her with everything I had. That I would give it all up for her.

_Bang_. The footsteps came pounding down the stairs with that realization. The quick pounding of the soles of _his_ feet matched the beats of my heart. It was oddly deja-vu of something I couldn't recall at the moment. The fear in me rose dramatically and Lilly's sense of pain seemed to return. No, no, no. This couldn't possibly be happening. But again, I had to face that it was.

His face came into view as he stepped into the room. He was covered in blood that I knew wasn't his own. He had four large scratches across his face and his arm was bleeding from what looked like a large bite mark. She had fought back, and I was proud that she had. She had given him just a little taste of what he'd done to her. But he deserved so much more. I wanted him to suffer and I wanted him to die for what he'd put the both of us through. No one deserved to go through the pain that I was sure Lilly was in, no one except him.

"Finally awake Nathaniel?" His sickening voice sneered. He shot me a smirk while he picked a towel up off the table to wipe the sticky red off his hands. I watched him carefully as he placed the cloth back down and pulled a gun from his pocket. How had I known that he wouldn't come down here unarmed?

"I'm surprised you slept through all the fun," He spoke, gesturing to Lilly.

"Fun?" I almost screamed, "You call this _fun_, you sick bastard?" He just laughed and it frustrated me to no end. He thought it was funny to play around with her life like this? To him she was a game, but to me she was everything. I couldn't even stand the thought of being perfectly fine, asleep, while she suffered next to me. It made me want to vomit.

"Don't worry," He smiled. It wasn't genuine. It was laced with something disgusting and ill that only someone as mentally deranged as him could wear with such comfort. It scared me. "You haven't missed everything."

"You're up just in time to play my favourite game of all," He spoke. My eyebrows scrunched up, confused and so afraid. The next words he spoke would forever replay in my mind. The second he said it, my breath caught in my throat, and my limbs became like ice- frozen. Everything stopped in that second, going as slow as it possibly could. The fear covered me and would stay with me forever.

"Russian Roulette," The smirk grew bigger and he loaded just one bullet. His shoes made a sickening noise as they walked across the ground, ever closer. Squish, Squish, Squish, against the crimson liquid covering the cement. He stopped in front of the both of us, me and Lilly, and spun the barrel like it was a daily occurrence. I tried desperately to suck in breath, but nothing came. I was silent, wide eyed, and I heard the click of the barrel as it came into place. He aimed it towards her, and my eyes followed. Her own eyes were shut, and I was grateful that at least she wouldn't have to see it, should it happen. I prayed more in those few seconds than I ever have in my life. If there was a God, and if he cared what so ever, he wouldn't let this happen. Not to me, not to her. We were so young, and had so much ahead of us. She wanted to go to Pepperdine in Malibu, and I wanted to tour. She wanted to go into Law, and I wanted to keep releasing music. But more than that, I wanted her, and I wanted a life with her no matter where it took us. But I wouldn't get that, not if it was ripped from my hands with just one bet on luck.

Click. The trigger. Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound of my heart. Squish. His boots lifted from the floor. Whoosh. The air filled my lungs. Pound. Pound. My pulse, my veins. Bang. Bang. The Headache against my skull. These are the sounds I will remember. These are the sounds before the _snap_ as the bullet ripped through her brain and littered it all over the wall.

-----

Distraction wasn't the word I was looking for, but I couldn't focus long enough to come up with a better one. Work was a distraction. I knew I shouldn't be here, and I knew I should have been at home, or with Miley or the Grays. I knew I should have, but I wasn't. I couldn't stand to think about it any longer than I already had. Everything was so confusing and it didn't make sense at all. I had run through forty million and one different scenarios and I was still empty handed. I wanted to do something, anything at all. I was interning at a police station, damnit! I should have been able to do something, but I didn't know where to start. There were no clues coming in, no tips. No one had seen Nick, or Lola, or even Lilly. The police had no leads, and now they were suddenly dead.

That was the first thing that set off the alarm bells in my head. _Dead_. I was at the station when I first heard the news report. Lola Luftnagle was found dead along with Nate Gray. She had apparently been so badly burned that the only way to identify her was through dental records and half a finger print that hadn't been completely melted from her skin. My suspicion about her disappearance hit the roof at this point. Lola had no dental records and no fingerprints. The only reason I knew this was because Mike Standley didn't have any either. It wasn't possible. I wasn't sure how the police had gotten these supposed records, but I didn't believe it for one second either way. That body wasn't Lilly's, I knew that much for sure. I couldn't be positive whether or not that was really Nate that was in the morgue at the hospital, but if he had been found with "Lola" than I was pretty doubtful. I couldn't seem to make up my mind whether I thought they were dead or not, but I knew that those bodies just couldn't be theirs. There wasn't enough evidence, if any, to prove it.

So many thoughts were swirling in my head and I couldn't pick which one to follow first. So many different courses to choose and I could only pick just one. I didn't want to pick the wrong one either, because that might just lead me down a path of nothing, wasting my time and getting me no where closer to Lilly or Nate. I needed just one thing, just one tip, one hint, one piece of evidence to follow. That was something I didn't have. Not until now, not until I got that call.

"Hello?" I answered my cell phone. I always had it on.

"Oliver..." Miley's voice came through from the other end of the line. She sounded terribly upset and like she had been crying for hours. I hadn't seen much of her ever since I had let myself get distracted with working. We hadn't talked much about the disappearance. We had both taken our space, taking our different ways to deal with it.

"I think you should come over," She cried, and without hesitation, I began to run around the station, gathering my things. I could hear the urgency in her voice and I knew she needed me. Something was up, and I could only hope that she had that one thing I had been waiting for. The one thing that would break this case wide open and give me a sure fire path to follow.

I didn't take longer than ten minutes to get to her front doorstep. I knocked quickly, and the door flew open the second I did. I felt arms wrap themselves around my neck and Miley's weight was thrown onto my body. She hugged me tightly as if I was the last thing she could hold onto. I felt her tears on my shoulder and my arms hugged her back just as tight. I could only hope that things would get better from here.

I looked past her into the living room where Jason and Shane sat uncomfortably. I think it was mildly obvious that they had just learned about the _Hannah _secret and were adjusting. Learning that I was really Mike Standley wouldn't be too hard, considering my appearance didn't change dramatically. It was always a wonder that no one ever told me I looked like him.

Once Miley released me, we stepped into the house, shutting the door behind us. She kept crying, never stopping. The two older boys looked distressed, but I don't think they had it in them to cry. I didn't either. I kept my arm around Miley though, because it was clear that she needed a friend to lean on now more than ever. Shane and Jason sat on the couch next to each other. They had dark circles under their eyes and it looked like they hadn't slept in days. Miley motioned for me to sit next to them, and I obeyed, falling next to Jason, who was now in the middle. The three of us watched Miley closely as she took a seat on the coffee table, wiping at her eyes. No matter how often she cleared them, they teared up again instantly.

"I got a call last night," She whimpered, running a hand from her forehead and over her hair, trying to stay composed, "It was Lilly." We all froze.

"She- She wanted me t- to tell you guys some things..." She trailed off, stuttering. She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts. When she finally did, she looked up, engaging in a staring contest with Jason.

"She said you were an amazing friend," She spoke, and Jason knew it was for him. He did all he could do. He bit his lip, nodded his head lightly and tried not to cry as his eyes welled up with unshed tears. Next Miley turned to her left, starting her second message.

"Shane," She began, sniffling, "She- I don't know what it's supposed to mean, but she-she wanted me to tell you that she's sorry."

"O-oh," He stuttered out, his eyes glazing over and becoming oddly interested with something on the carpet. She took the chance and turned all the way over to me. I didn't want to hear it. Hearing Lilly's message would some how confirm in my head what we all knew. She was probably dead. She had somehow gotten a hold of a phone, or her kidnapper had let her give her last messages. I didn't want to accept that my best friend was gone. That the girl I had known since preschool wasn't going to be around anymore.

"Oliver," Miley spoke, catching her breath.

"No," I retaliated, "I don't want to hear it." Miley seemed taken aback. She looked at me with shock and something I couldn't place. Her eyes welled up again and her tears spilled out. I watched as anger snapped across her face and flashed through her eyes. And then she couldn't hold back anymore.

"You don't want to hear it?!" She yelled, "At least you have something to hear!" She couldn't help but begin hiccuping through her rant, "She called me last night and she knew. I could hear it in her voice that she thought she'd never get the chance to tell you these things, and you don't even want to hear it! She didn't even tell _me_ anything, but its enough for me to know that she called me, she wanted to talk to me and that she trusted me enough with these messages and I can't even give it to you because you don't _want it_?! She couldn't even tell me where she was, she- she just- she wanted me to give these words to you because it's all she could, and you won't let me do that for her," Miley broke, letting her hands catch her head as it fell and she sobbed. And as she sobbed, it all clicked in my head. I took in my breath and I got that clue. I reached out to the table, past Miley and grabbed her phone. Three clicks was all it took to get that number back on the caller display. It was a ten digit number, one that seemed far too familiar. It may have taken three clicks to get that number, but this realization came in just one. This was a police number.

"Miley," My voice was strong and yet scared all at the same time, "Miley..." I looked up to her and she raised her head to catch my gaze. "Get me a pen and a paper, now! I can trace this number." And without hesitation, she obliged. She jumped from her seat and grabbed me what I needed. I copied down that number with the speed of superman and held it tightly in my hand as I raced out the door, all three of them following. We all loaded into my car, and I heard the tires squeal as I sped away. And as I drove, I wracked my brain for where I had seen this number. I went over and over through every memory, and every time I did it only came back to one thing. _Miller_.

**A/N: Bah. I hope you liked it, and hopefully it wasn't as rusty as the last chapter. Depending on how the next chapter plays out, it may be the last or there may be _one _more chapter after that. A few questions though. Do you prefer this scenario over the "Nate possibly dying" one that I had presented last chapter? Also, don't kill me, the story isn't finished yet. :) Big hint right there. Also, What has been both your favourite line, and your favourite scene in this entire story? I'd love to hear your thoughts. Anyways, review! **

**ps. At the beginning, after rereading, and especially the one line, it reminds me so much of the song Apologize. I think it's originally by One Republic, please correct me if I'm wrong, But I've totally been digging the cover that Silverstein did of it. Does anyone else listen to Silverstein? If so, what do you think of them? I'd love to hear. Wow, this A/N is way too long.**

**Review please!**


	15. Chapter 15: Oliver&Nate

**A/N: Thank you guys _so much_ again for the reviews. I really can't express my gratitude. So this _isn't_ the last chapter. It was going to be, but I decided to split it up a bit at the end to keep you guys in the dark and wondering. Next chapter will be the official ending. It will be shorter though, because it was supposed to be added onto this one, but I felt that where I ended it was a better place to stop the chapter. Anyways, enough of me. Enjoy chapter fifteen.**

**Disclaimer: No. Still No.**

Anyone But You

Chapter Fifteen

The car couldn't seem to move quite fast enough. The window was rolled down and I could feel the air whipping past me. The comfort that it usually brought was no use to me now, because I couldn't begin to concentrate. I could hardly register the stop signs and street lights, so the wind wasn't even on my radar. My eyes were trained on the road, my only thoughts were on getting to the police station as quickly as I possibly could. I was well over the speed limit, and I was sure that I would get in a lot of trouble if I was caught, especially being an intern, but I didn't care. I had my break through, my clue, and I had to follow it as quickly as I could. I had to get to her, to them. She was too important to me to let her slip through my hands, and I knew that Nate's brothers were missing him dearly.

I could hardly feel the wheel beneath my hands because they were shaking so badly. I was so close, and I could only hope that I wasn't too late. They had been gone for so long now, and I had wasted so much time in finding them. I always heard that the best chance for finding someone alive was in the first forty eight hours, but we'd passed that. Forty eight hours had come and gone and I still hadn't made it to them. I felt like such a failure. I felt like I was letting them down all this time. I worked at a police station and my mom was a cop. I should have been able to do something, to stop something, to see something, anything at all. It was all happening right in front of my eyes and I hadn't noticed. I'd walked past Miller day after day never suspecting anything. He had seemed so.. _normal._

I wanted to kill him. I wanted to just wrap my hands around his throat and kill him. If either of them were dead, so help me god. I had had so many chances, so many moments alone with him, but I hadn't known. I hadn't known until this number. The second I saw the ten digit number on Miley's caller display, I wracked my brain for where I'd seen it before and I knew. It had been a week before either of them had gone missing. I'd picked up a file from him that my mom had requested, and when she got it she'd found an extra paper inside it that he had misplaced. I brought it back. It was an activation letter from a phone company. I could admit that I was nosy, because I did get a good look at it, and thank god I did because it was the only reason I remembered that number. There was an address on it, I was sure, and all I needed to do was raid Miller's office to get it. Hopefully he wouldn't be there to stop me, and if he was, I'd be sure that he would suffer the same fate as Lilly and Nate. I didn't want to believe that they were...well... But I had to be realistic. I knew the statistics, and I knew previous cases and things didn't look good for them. Honestly, things looked pretty grim at this point.

The second I pulled the car into a parking space I heard all the car doors open. We all hopped out simultaneously, eager to find our friends, but I think I was the only one who really knew what they were doing. Miley was still crying, but had given up trying to dry the tears away. Shane and Jason were fidgety. I guess they were trying not to get too hopeful, but also trying to keep their spirits up. They looked so odd and out of place, as if there was something else. Something they weren't saying or something that was missing to them. I raised an eyebrow for just a few moments, but I couldn't waste time with their awkwardness when my best friend's life was at risk. When my best friend could have just minutes to live and I was the only thing trying to keep her alive. I had to find her. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't.

I sped into the station, whipping open the doors and not caring if the others followed. They did. Vaguely I could hear someone calling my name as I rushed through the quiet building, but I ignored it. I couldn't let some random cop or another intern deter me from finding my friends. I couldn't stop and I couldn't rest because I'd already wasted so much of their precious time. Please, God, be okay. Let me make it on time.

The frosted glass door to Miller's office made a horrible slamming noise as it hit the wall in the process of being hurled open. Everyone piled in and the door closed behind us. Miley was confused; So were Jason and Shane. I ran behind the desk, ignoring their furrowed eyebrows and glances to one another. My hands desperately searched the papers strewn across the desk top, making a mess of the neat piles and over turning a basket and a pencil holder. My hands riffled, looking for anything with the symbol of the phone company that I knew was on the paper of the activation number. I looked until he stopped me.

"Thats-" My head shot up, "Those are Nate's... or Lola's?" Shane's voice rang out, wavering. His eyes were confused, and him saying that almost pegged a certainty in my mind. Miller had done this, of that I was sure. My hands stopped spreading out papers and my eyes darted between Shane and the desk wondering what exactly he was talking about. _What_ was Nate and Lola's?

"The mix CD's..." He trailed off, his eyes trained on four of them that were spread out between papers. His feet led him forward, coming ever closer to the desk and the discs. I stopped what I was doing, watching him and allowing him to steal a disc from the wooden surface. He looked it over, memorizing every line and design and then looked back up to me.

"I'm positive," And without hesitation, my fingers found the power button on Miller's computer. Thankfully, it didn't take long to load and before I knew it, my hands were placing one of the CDs into the computer's disc drive. The computer whirred as it came to life, another clue spinning, just waiting to be watched. I hadn't realized it, but both Jason and Miley had found their way around the desk to the side that me and Shane were on. They were all huddled around me as I hunched over, typing in police passwords and rattling the mouse around. And then the box popped up and I clicked play, unaware of what I would find.

"Is it on?" A hand flashed over the screen as someone within the video spoke, "I think it's on."

"Shushhhh, Shut up! She's coming," Another voice. The scene was black, and I could see the back drop for Lola's 18th surprise birthday. I watched as a limo pulled up, and Me, Hannah, and Lilly all got out. As soon as the images flooded my eyes, the memories flooded my head. I could remember that night so clearly. I could smell the candy, taste the punch, see the lights, hear the music. It was as if I was back to Friday instantly. It lasted a few moments, and we walked along the carpet, and then the scene cut.

"Lola! Happy Eighteenth birthday!" Was said about twelve times by some of the fake-est people I will ever know. I was positive that most of them didn't even know her. There were several scenes of the party in action and then a super close up of Nate from far away.

"Boom! Crash!" Both Shane and Jason looked at each other, sharing a brief smile, and then turned their attention back to Miller's computer screen.

"Jason look! War is about to be declared," Was spoked as the camera showed Nate approaching Lola. A shot of Shane's feet was seen for a second and then the scene cut. And then there she was. Lilly, or more appropriately, Lola. She was leaning up against the snack table, beautiful as ever, smiling for a split second as she looked out at her party. She seemed to be enjoying it. Well, at least she was until...

"So Lola, what's it like to be eighteen?" Nate's voice rang out, her smile faded. She placed her hand up to the lens, but I could still here her voice.

"A lot better than being Nate Gray." I almost smiled. That was so typical of her. Nate then mumbled something and the camera turned towards the crowd of people. From there on in, the video became a first hand account of a murder. We all watched as they saw the crowd clear and we all watched as they ran hand in hand. Our eyes were glued to the screen as they moved through the crowd and as they darted down that alley way. But it wasn't my eyes that reacted when I saw the face of the gunman in between those two buildings. It was my arm. It was my arm that reached up to swipe at the computer screen. But it was my eyes that watched it smash to the ground and spark. I didn't even register the shock of my friends at my sudden reaction, because it was my mouth that prevailed.

"Jesse," I uttered it, and then nothing. My eyes shut and I breathed in. I tried to calm myself down and I tried not to explode. He wasn't here today, and now I knew why. I knew exactly why, and I knew why he was always attached to Miller. He wasn't just Miller's assistant, he was his hit man. I'd kill him too. I'd kill anyone who had anything to do with this. What kind of _sick_, _disgusting_ people plan this shit? Who would want to hurt Lilly? I had known her for fourteen years and she had never given anyone a reason to hold something against her. And It couldn't have even been just because of her being a witness. And I knew this because I had seen that number a _week_ before anything had even happened; and it only added more suspicion that a murder should occur at her party. It was all starting to fall into place for me, and the more it did, the more I hated him, and the more I hated myself for not being able to figure it out sooner. They had killed an innocent boy that night. They'd lodged that bullet in his brain just to distract everyone, to cause chaos to get to her without being noticed. They had _wanted_ her to go down that alleyway, but I guess they didn't anticipate that she'd be clinging to the bane of her existence- to Nathaniel Gray. I don't know what stopped him that night though. What motive they had for letting the two of them go, but it gave me some sort of hope, but also fear. I wouldn't tell Jason or Shane my conclusion. If they wanted Lilly so badly, they wanted her for a reason- and that reason couldn't have just been murder. Nate would have been a pawn, something that got in the way and was so easily disposable. Please, god, let them be okay. Let me be wrong.

Then it caught my eye. Not the paper with the number, but something else, a different paper. A paper with a home address. And the words spilled from my mouth, "Everyone get in the fucking car, now!" And we ran, buckled up, and sped; but not before I let my hands wrap around the gun sitting in the first drawer to my right.

I could feel the floor beneath my feet and I hoped that it wouldn't be too late. I hoped that if I hoped hard enough everything I hoped for wouldn't be a hope, but a reality. I was getting sick of the word hope. I just had to believe, and have faith, and _pray_. I had to pray that everything I ever believed in wouldn't come crashing down. This wasn't fair. Good people didn't deserve to have these things happen to them. _Lilly_ didn't deserve this, and Nate didn't either. They had to pull through. I was sending every ounce of strength I ever had to them through my thoughts and through my prayers. Just a little bit longer, I promise.

I couldn't get to 520 Everglade fast enough. I pulled into the driveway of a nice home. It had three floors and was in the richer part of the neighbourhood. I was sure that it wasn't nearly as nice as Jason or Shane's house, but it was much better than either Lilly or I lived in. He had so much. He had a nice job, a loving wife, and a perfect house to go to every day. He had all these things, and yet he felt it was necessary to take a _life_ too? He was supposed to protect people, but instead he was terrorizing them.

The door made the same slam as his office door as I opened it. It was unlocked. He went through so much trouble to protect himself, and yet he kept his front door unlocked so the public could uncover his secrets. Or perhaps he had forgotten this one important thing because he had been going somewhere in a rush. That was my first and only thought, and I hoped that he wasn't headed to end what he had started. Deep breaths. The air rushed in and the air rushed out. Concentrate. My eyes closed to darkness, and then the light flooded in.

My feet calmly led me through the first floor, looking for an office. There wasn't one. The staircase led me upstairs to the loft. His office sat there, another staircase leading to what I imaged to be bedrooms was beside that. My body went directly to the desk, and somewhere in the back of my mind I registered the others following me. My hands searched, and my eyes roamed every paper. I felt my fingers grip the handles of drawers and my arms worked to pull them open, covering every inch of the office. I didn't care if I was trespassing, all I needed was to save my friends.

Files. Files. Work passwords. Photos. Forms. Pay check. Health insurance- how ironic. Letter from Aunt Jillian. Bills. Bills. Files. And then the Logo that I was desperately searching for. I ripped open the envelope, pulling at the papers inside and ignoring the voices of the three people behind me. They were all talking at me, asking me if I'd found it, what it said, where we were going. Everything went in one ear and out the other as my eyes darted from left to right reading the paper. The number caught my eye. It was the same number. Two lines down was an address that didn't match the one we were at. Two lines down was an address that was an hour from here surrounded by industrial sites and warehouses. I knew where we were going, and then-

"Shut up! shhhh!" My eyes were trained on a spot on the paper and my ears were listening closely. I was the one who had spoken the words. I could have sworn I heard something- rustling, from downstairs or through the vents, or from _somewhere_ in this house. Was Miller home? My hand moved quietly to pad the hidden gun resting in my pocket. My heart jumped into my throat and I felt its beating. Beat. Beat. Beat. Thump. Thump. Thump. Air filled my lungs, and then exited slowly. Everyone froze around me, and slowly I moved, listening intently. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and I heard the wheezing, and the breathing, and the deep breaths as if I had supersonic hearing. _Her_.

"Lilly," And the slow motion was no more. I jumped over the railing and onto the staircase, bounding down to the main floor within seconds. Everyone remained frozen, confused and sharing looks with each other.

"Lilly!" I called out, "Lilly where are you!?" I listened, and I heard the sobs. Everyone did and they all jumped into action, moving down the stairs as I started towards the kitchen. There was a door that was whipped open with ease, and my feet made tremendous pounding noises as I bounded down the stairs. There was a hallway to my left, but I didn't bother going down it. I could hear her, and my heart reached out to her. I closed my eyes, preparing myself and I listened to the others follow. I went to turn the knob, breathing in, and found it locked. Eyes shot open, and my shoulder hit the door. I needed to get to her. I heard the crack, and I knew it was the wood, not me, when the wooden plank flew open.

"No," I froze. My eyes trailed over every aspect of the room, until I landed on the one thing I had wanted to see for days, "No." I swore I'd never cry, but I did. I felt the sting and my heart clenched tightly. I felt someone slam into my back, but I didn't move from the doorway.

"Oh god," My throat closed up. I stared. I didn't blink because I was afraid I'd loose her. The scene was silent and grim. There was one light hanging from the ceiling and the cold, gray, cement enclosed us. I moved. I moved slowly and carefully, trying not to scare her. I felt the crunch of broken coffee cups beneath me, and I heard the _squelch_ as the sticky drink stuck to my shoes.

"Lilly?" I breathed and my voice cracked. Everyone else stayed frozen in the doorway as I walked ever closer. I watched her with intensity, waiting for her to move, or make any sound at all. She didn't, not until she opened her eyes. Her blue eyes stung with tears, and they looked at me with something so frightening. Her tears leaked out, and she cried with no restraint, something the old Lilly never would have done willingly. She stared at me, trying to convey her words. She didn't speak, but I knew what she couldn't say. She tried to speak every bruise and every beating through her eyes and I got the message. I got that message and then for the first time I took her in entirely.

She was pale. Her body was thinner, if only by a little, but I still noticed. She had bruises all over, covering her entire body. There were black and blue hand prints, and blood in some places. Her face scared me something bad. It was dark, and large, and flowed from her temple to her jaw. I watched her as her bottom lip shook and she bit it so it would stop. She cried, and I could do nothing but watch her eyes. She looked so scared, so hurt, so awful. I couldn't even begin to imagine what she'd been through. Then she sobbed. I felt my knees touch the ground and I knelt down in front of her. Delicately, I wrapped my arms around her small figure, holding her close to me and closing my eyes.

"You're going to be okay, Lilly," I whispered in her ear, feeling her hair between my fingers, "I got you." I squeezed my eyes together tightly and sniffled. The tears in my eyes kept coming, and I didn't care as long as she was here and she was fine. But the moment didn't last long.

"He's going to kill Nate." Her voice whispered back to me, hoarse and scratchy and laced with absolute regret and fear. My eyes were open again, and I leaned back to watch her carefully. I looked between her and the forgotten paper in my hand for a mere few seconds before I detached myself from her hold.

"Jason!" I called, and he jumped to my side immediately, "Stay here. Stay with Lilly," Was all I said. My eyes took another look at the paper, and I knew what I needed to do. A lot could happen in one hour, and one hour was all the time I could waste in getting there. The only person that would end up dead before the end of today was Miller, and I would do everything in my power to make sure of it.

---

My eyes flew open as quickly as they could and I felt the cold, frigid air fill my lungs. Without any conscious effort my body jumped forward, sitting up. I breathed, and my chest rose and fell with a steady pattern. The heart on my left side was beating quicker and quicker, my pulse racing. My mind was blank, and I tried to think about anything at all, but nothing ever entered my head. I pressed my eyes shut, and I listened to the rhythm of my breaths. In. Out. In. Out. With each one, the air flew past and made me shiver just a little. There was something I was forgetting, something important. _Someone_ important.

Click. Thump, thump, thump. Squish. Whoosh. Pound, pound. Bang, bang. _Snap._ It all rushed back to me. The sounds rushed back just as quickly as the feelings did. In a moments time I felt scared and helpless, and hurt. I felt that empty nagging at my heart, the one that told me she was gone. I felt the sting in my eyes and the pressure in my chest. I didn't concentrate on anything in that moment except those memories. The memories of her that would stick with me forever. Every time I thought about it, it scared me. It could still make me fear, and shake, and break down.

I remembered her smile, and her laugh, and her touch. I thought about all the memories that I shared with her but I couldn't shake the last one. The fights replayed in my head and I didn't have any control over the slow or pause or repeat buttons. I wanted that control and I wanted it to stop. I wanted to stop remembering. I wanted to erase it because it hurt. But I wanted to keep those good memories. I wanted to replay the smiles, the loving looks, her eyes, her every feature.

I could imagine what we could have. I thought about the green grass we might've laid out on and the dark, star covered sky that we would have watched. There were picket fences, and perhaps a dog. We would fight, but we would never really mean it. But more than that we would be together, and every night I would have come home to her. I would have held her close, and loved her with everything I had, and ever would have.

I sat there, in that bed, thinking of all these things. I sat and thought about what we could have had and what would have been. But it was too early for could haves and would haves, and if I worked and tried I could still do something. I could make this a possibility and I would try for her. It wasn't too late. I desperately wanted her to know I needed her, to know that I loved her. I wanted _Lilly_ to know that. Blond or redhead, she would always remain the same to me. She would _always_ be my forever.

My feet felt the floor as I threw the covers off and jumped out of bed. The floorboards were cold and creaked as I ran. My body shivered, void of the previous warmth the blankets provided. I didn't need blankets, and I didn't need to be all snug in bed. The door to 'my' bedroom opened and I glanced down the hall. It was so normal, so comfortable now. That was probably what he wanted. He wanted us to feel safe, to feel at home. He didn't want us to have our guard up because this setting gave him so much more power.

I ran. I ran to the door down the hallway, the one that I had known as Shane's for so long. I paused there, breathing dramatically and hoping that I wouldn't find something I didn't like. Once second, then two. Time ticked away for me and I let my eyes fall shut. I felt the cold, hard knob beneath my fingertips and I gripped it tightly. With one swift wrist movement, it turned and I heard the click. I froze, thinking back immediately to the events of last night. My eyes flew open, and the breath left my chest, relieved. But the relief didn't last long, and it disappeared as soon as Shane's door inched open. She wasn't there.

I jolted forward, bounding into the room. Let it be a nightmare, let it all have been a nightmare. I found myself next to the bed and I whipped the blankets off. I was terrified. My arms thrashed around, making a mess of the room, trying to find her where I knew I wouldn't. She sheets were torn from the mattress and the pillowcases off the pillows. It was useless but it was the only thing I could do to keep me from crying, to keep me from thinking that maybe it really had happened. I didn't want to think it could be real, to think I'd never see her, touch her, kiss her again. She couldn't be dead, because she was everything I had. I couldn't loose this. I couldn't loose the one thing I wanted more than anything else.

I stopped. I froze when I heard the creaking and I was hopeful that it was her. I prayed that she was safe, that she was okay and that nothing, and no one, would touch her or hurt her. She had to make it. I cared about her far too much to allow her to suffer anymore. My feet treaded the floor like they were made of feathers. I didn't make a sound and I didn't breath a breath. I stood behind the door and I gripped the handle, preparing myself to open it. I did, and I froze for an entirely different reason. What greeted me beyond that door wasn't the girl I was hoping for, it was something else. It was _him_.

I stared down the barrel of that hand gun and I could do nothing else. My eyes closed and I waited. I waited for the nothing I was sure I would feel, and the click as he pressed the trigger. I waited for the theatrical bright white lights, and I waited to be finished with this. Nothing. I was scared, but nothing came, and then I spoke the words I knew I would.

"Do it," And when I looked up, he was confused, and thrown off for just a mere few moments, "Do it, but just don't hurt her." His eyes darted between mine, and I felt so in control. Was this not what he expected from me? Or could he just not live up to my demands. I saw his hands shake just a bit, and I heard the gulp in his throat. Why was he more nervous than I was?

"Pull the trigger! Do you need an invitation?! What the _fuck_ are you waiting for?!" I yelled, standing there. I didn't think I could ever feel so comfortable with a gun in my face. I realized that the only time I ever felt so at home in this replica house was now. And I only felt so carefree because I knew I was doing it for her. That made it okay.

I watched him mentally prepare himself for what he was about to do. He took his deep breaths and he closed his own eyes momentarily. I didn't try to disarm him, or fight him off. I just stood, obediently, waiting. He seemed to take forever.

"Will you just fucking kill me already?!" And the _Bang_ was the last sound in the sequence of onomatopoeias.

**A/N: I apologize if the Lilly situation is confusing, with her being 'dead' and now alive. If you haven't already picked up on it, it will be explained more bluntly next chapter. I also apologize if it seems like Oliver only cares about finding Lilly. But she's his best friend, and him and Nate aren't nearly as close, so it would be natural that he'd be more concerned about her. Next chapter will be short, maybe half the size of a regular chapter. Should I include more POVs in the next chapter, other than Lilly, Nate, and Oliver? And who's POV should it end with, Lilly or Nate? I'm leaning towards Lilly. Also, I'm sorry we haven't seen Lilly's POV in a while, but there's a reason for that. So give me any predictions, answers, or suggestions in a review. :) I like the long ones.**

**Ps. Does anyone have any ideas for what you might like to see me write after ABY? I don't do pregnancy stories, I tried that once with Irreplaceable and it didn't work out for me too well. I'm just not interested in it. Any type of genre you'd like to see me write though, or certain plot lines? Couples? Or should I just put my full attention on DLSS? **

**Also, I'm kind of interested in co-writing again. I don't have much time these days, so it would be good to have a story that I'm not entirely responsible for. I'm not positive if I'm up for it, but if there's anyone else interested, tell me, and I can think about it.**

**This is too long. I'm sorry. I'll try to talk less next time.**

**Review Please!**

**Pss. Listen to Always – Blink 182. It reminds me of this story.**


	16. Chapter 16: Lilly

**A/N: Thank you guys _sooooo much_ for the reviews. You're amazing. Honestly. I can't stress that enough. This final chapter is dedicated to anyone still reading that has read since the beginning. I'm absolutely ecstatic to finally finish this, but I'm terribly sad to see it end. I had so much fun with the storyline, and hopefully you had fun reading it. Anyways, this is the _final_ chapter. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: For the 2349792374th time. No.**

Anyone But You

Chapter Sixteen

I felt the cold, hard cement against my back as I retreated into that corner. My body ached entirely and there wasn't a place that was bruised or had been. I felt my eyes slipping further down. I couldn't keep them open anymore. I didn't have the strength in me to keep going. I needed something, anything to go off of. I wanted someone to be my knight in shinning armor, and I just wanted to hear the words in my ears. It had to be okay. There was nothing else in my thoughts except that it had to turn out fine. Something would happen, I could feel it in my bones. Something just wasn't letting me give up hope yet, not even when there was so little time left.

But my will was still disappearing. There was always the logical voice in my head, the one that told me not to wish so hard for my happy ending. The cards were on the table, and the results weren't looking so great. Excuse me for thinking this when I'm half alive in a darkened cement pit. I couldn't even count on that staying the same for long either. I couldn't count on anything anymore, not when I'd already been through all of this.

My breathing gradually became slower and deeper. My lungs were sore and my throat scratched every time the air came through. My ribs stung with an excruciating pain and I knew something must have been broken. My mind was wandering and I wasn't even sure if I was still in my own body. I felt like I could open my eyes and just look out upon myself. It felt like I was an entirely different person, and I had to admit that I wished I was. I wished I was someone else, that I wasn't Lilly or Lola. I wanted to be normal, and not have some interesting and complicated double life. I didn't want to be the object of desire for some sickeningly mislead police officer, and at this moment in time I didn't want to be in love with the bane of my existence. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

I was supposed to be happy, alive, and enjoying my first days of being an adult. I was eighteen but I wasn't nearly old enough to deal with this. I still felt seventeen, for gods sake. It hadn't set it at all, and the maturity that I was supposed to have wasn't there. Eighteen year olds weren't supposed to cry and want their mothers and fathers. I should have been independent, and doing everything on my own, but not this. This was too hard. I think it would have been hard for anyone, even someone twice my age. How do you deal with being an obsession? To know that you've lead to the death of someone else? Even if I made it out alive, I didn't know if I would ever be able to live with the consequences of my actions.

Nate. His name played over and over and over again in my head. I could feel the sting beneath my eyes as I thought of him. The water crept up and I could feel it on my eyelashes. I didn't bother to try and dry them. The cool wetness seeped past the corners of my eyes and I felt it slide down, across my cheek bone. The breath I'd been holding in my throat begged to be let out, but I couldn't. Whenever I thought of him, he just did that to me. The though of him dying made it even worse. The breath came out and I sucked another one in just as quick. I shivered as the cold air rushed into my lungs. My eyes looked towards the ceiling, and I sniffled just a bit. The tears kept rolling. I couldn't stop them.

It was as if a slide show was going off behind my eyes. I could see him and only him. I felt a pounding in my chest at each mental picture and it hurt. It really, psychically, did. It pushed and pulled at the same time, and it burned and froze in the same moment. I would never be able to get him off my mind. This was true, and I never doubted it for a minute. His curls, I could still feel them through my fingers. And his lips were still fresh on mine with a softness and passion that would never be matched. I would never forgive myself for being the cause to end his life. I would always think of myself as the final nail in his coffin. It was a guilt that would weigh heavily on me forever and I wasn't sure that I would be okay with that.

I heard myself let out a retched sob at the thought of him. I could see his lively eyes cold and blank and I could feel his touch sending shivers down my spine in all the wrong ways. His lips would be blue, and his hair dull. I felt so detached from myself, imagining him in a morgue. It was something I was so desperately afraid of. I didn't want to have to identify him, or watch them lock him back into his own personal refrigerator in the hospital's basement. More than that I didn't want to have to witness a funeral. I couldn't bare to hear the crying and the sobs, and watch the room in black. I didn't want to hear all the wonderful words I knew everyone would say about him, and I didn't want to watch them lower him into the ground; the last I would ever see of him. I had never gone to a funeral before, and I had never had anyone close to me pass away. I didn't want the closest to be the first.

Why hadn't I just given Miller all the answers he wanted? I could have just ripped my wig off and exposed myself. Why did this all have to even happen to me? What was so alluring about Lola? No one else certainly noticed anything. At any Hannah event _she_ had always been the star and I the side kick, or in her words, her 'right wing'. Looking back, even at my own surprise birthday she had been more popular than me. Why had it been Lola? Probably because Miley was smart enough to cover her tracks and Oliver was a boy. But why now? Why at my eighteenth birthday? I didn't mean to insinuate that I would have rather had this happen sooner, but I guess I kind of wished it had. I wished this entire thing had played out differently. Mostly I wished that I had never gotten Nate involved. He was innocent in all this. The only thing he was guilty of was trying to protect me that night, and instead I had gone and tied him up in this mystery. I'd killed him.

I could still vividly remember that night. The bickering at the snack table and his hands in mine. I remember feeling confused and afraid, but most of all I remember the feeling of comfort beneath that. I felt protected and I silently thanked him. He'd given up his life for mine and I would never be able to repay that. There would always be a place for him in my arms, my heart would always be his. There was no questioning that. He was insufferable and annoying, but he had a heart of gold. He put our differences aside that night and he never truly placed them back up again.

I thought deeper, and harder, trying to remember everything. I could vaguely recall coming back to his house, but not much. The thing I remembered most was the nightmare I had that night. I remember seeing the hit man, the one we'd seen on that night. In the nightmare I had fallen and Nate hadn't gotten to me quite fast enough. I'd woken up screaming. It was something I will always remember, even if I had never told Nate I recalled it the night Miley and Oliver slept over. He had rushed to me side so quickly. In that moment I couldn't remember any resentment or grudge, and I remembered that I loved it. He had been everything I had ever wanted, smoothing down my hair and whispering that everything was okay. I wanted to hate him after that, but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to hate someone that had cared for me and comforted me in my time of need. I had been so vulnerable and he hadn't thought of it as a way to torture me and tease me like I would have done to him.

I still had the shirt. I didn't think I would ever give it back now. I didn't even know who Elvis Costello was, but it would always remind me of Nate. Even before I had remembered my nightmare, I was reluctant to take it off. I couldn't place why, but I loved how it felt against my skin. It was way too big for me, but the fabric was soft and smelled of something beautiful. I knew now, exactly what it was; _him_. I would never wash that shirt for the rest of my life, I was sure, and I was glad now that Joe had picked out that shirt for me that night. But thoughts of my birthday lead to the Sunday after, and I dreadfully regretted it.

I had woken up that morning in a sweat, having another nightmare and instantly remembering mine and Nick's encounter Friday night. I didn't want to remember and I didn't want to have the kind of feelings I felt myself having. I remember taking it out on him that night. The dinner party was a disaster and my mother had yelled at me for so long after. I'd pulled a bitch trip on him, releasing all the pent up aggravation. I was angry, mostly at myself, so I yelled at him instead. I had called him a jerk, and an idiot, and I had wished he was dead. I had needed to convince myself that I thought all these things, the things that I'd been thinking for so long and the things that had begun to change in one small moment. God, I missed how easy things used to be for us. And I sobbed some more.

I missed everything about him and I was sure I would miss it for eternity if this played out the way I thought it would. His smile was so bright and wonderful. It almost made me smile just thinking of it. His voice was.. I couldn't even describe it. It still sent shivers down my spine. My head tilted back to stop the tears from coming and I let out a terribly shaky breath. My arms found their way around my knees and I pressed them tight. I held myself, thinking how it would never match the way he held me. No one would ever compare to him in my eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut and the excess tears leaked out onto my stained cheeks. I swallowed a lump in my throat and held my breath again. Maybe if I held it long enough I'd die. I wished it would have been me, then I wouldn't have to deal with this. I wished that Miller would have seen through my bright red hair and connected the my face to the one he'd been studying in the folder. Why couldn't he have seen this so much earlier? Why couldn't he have matched Lola's face years ago to the picture of me and Oliver on Mrs. Oken's desk?

Suddenly I was jolted out of my thoughts and my strange detachment. I heard creaks and my heart clenched. Miller had only left me here moments before and he was back for more. He was back to tell me that Nate was dead and that I was next. He was back to hit me, to scratch me, to _touch_ me. I bit my lip, almost till it bled when I thought of the kiss he had forced upon me that first night down the the Police station's file room. I shuddered at the memory. I listened closely, not daring to move an inch. I heard the pounding and the movements and it sounded like a lot more than just Miller. Oh God, the other one was back too, wasn't he? I shuffled further into the corner, pressing myself deeper against the wall and trying to hold back my tears. I didn't want to hear the news, the news that would crush every hope I would ever have. The world wasn't fair.

Amidst the pounding I heard the yelling, but I couldn't make it out. It quieted and I couldn't help but sniffle and cry. I couldn't deny that I was terrified. The deep, menacing booms echoed on the stairs. My heart became tighter and the room became so much smaller. The footsteps clapped along the floor and then everything stopped. The door handle jiggled and I held my breath. Then nothing. And then I the loudest sound of them all. The wood of the door split and the crack bounced off every wall. I closed my eyes, pressing them together as hard as I could and I waited.

"No," I heard the voice. My breath still held, and my eyes stayed closed, but my heart released. It didn't have that tight, terrorizing feeling in it anymore, "No. Oh god." Yeah, that was the reaction I should have expected. I'd become so accustomed to how I looked that it wasn't much of a shock in the mirror, but it would have been a big one to anyone else. Especially the bruise on my face. Images flooded of all the times I'd been pistol whipped across the cheek, causing the black and blue print.

"Lilly?" I heard my name spill out of his mouth. Silently and slowly, I let my eyes slide open. He was someone I was definitely glad to see right now and his was the face that gave me an ounce of hope in this moment. His boyish features put me slightly at ease and I knew now that I'd be saved. I prayed to God that they had caught Miller, I prayed that they'd got there in time. I watched the door carefully, seeing Miley, Jason and Shane standing there, uneasy and shocked. I didn't see him. Nate wasn't there, standing next to them and coming to me to tell me that everything was over. Please, please God, let him be alive. Please let us save him in time.

My eyes moved to Oliver and I watched him with such an intensity. Knowing him for fourteen years meant that we didn't need words. All we needed was one look and we knew exactly what the other person was trying to say. In one look we knew every moment and experience. I could see the worry and the fear in his eyes. I caught everything he wanted to say, and I knew he was trying to apologize for not getting here quicker. He didn't need to. I would never blame him for any of this, it would _never_ be his fault. He would always be my guardian angel just for trying.

"Your going to be okay Lilly," His soothing voice whispered to me as he knelt down. I felt his strong, comforting arms wrap around me and I tried to hug him back. I couldn't. I couldn't will myself to move at all, "I got you." The words eased me a bit, but it felt selfish. It felt so selfish to embrace this comfort when someone else's life was on the line. When someone I loved dearly was going to die. I couldn't find it in me to hug Oliver back, because every once of strength in my body was put towards these prayers. It was put towards my words to God, my words that he'd make it out alive.

"He's going to kill Nate," Was all I spoke back. It was the single thought on my mind and I whispered it quiet enough that Jason or Shane wouldn't overhead. I didn't want to scare them, or worry them. They seemed shattered enough just looking at what Miller had done to me. I knew that they deserved to know, but I couldn't put them through it. If they felt just a portion of what I did in knowing that, I would feel so utterly guilty. I didn't want them to hurt. I wanted to protect them from what they'd soon know for just a little bit longer.

Oliver leaned back and away from me. His eyes stared deeply into mine, searching for something that I wasn't sure I could give him. I watched him closely, intently, waiting for his response. All he did was look between my own eyes and something he held tightly in his hands. I wanted to look down, to see what it was exactly, but I couldn't take my eyes off him. I was afraid that somehow this would be just a dream and I'd wake up in that cold, awful house, or worse, here with Miller. And then he moved away.

"Jason!" His voice hit my ears and it the loudness shocked me slightly, "Stay here. Stay with Lilly." Jason was next to me in moments. I hardly even registered that Oliver wasn't here anymore because he'd moved away so quickly. I could vaguely hear the loud stomps as my best friend flew up the stairs and left us here. I wanted to run, to go after him, but I was crowded in almost seconds.

"Lola," Jason looked me over, eyes wide. Shane came and knelt down next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. Miley walked over, looking scared. Her eyes were watching me, looking at every bruise and cut, and in utter shock. I wonder how she'll look when she realizes that we're wasting time while Nate is dying. I wonder how she'll look when she sees his dead body in the morgue and remembers this moment when we could have been trying to save him. I was only slightly bitter.

"I-" I couldn't even get the words out. I felt my arms flail mercilessly at my friends and they backed away. Their eyes narrowed in confusion and they shared glances at each other. They must've thought I was crazy. Jason was the first to move closer after my attack. He was not only the oldest, but was stronger than Miley and closer to me than Shane, so it seemed only fitting. I tried to fight him off, and I hit my fists against his chest. He persisted still though. He didn't fight back, he only took what I dished out. I felt his hands hold my wrists gently, and his arms wrapped around me, hugging me tightly. We swayed lightly from left to right and it calmed me, if only slightly. I felt that familiar sting against my eyes as I calmed down enough to actually think. I cried.

"Your fine," Jason whispered to me delicately. He breathed in my hair, and I felt the care in his grip. He held me so protectively, as if he didn't want to ever let me go. I could tell that he was so glad to have me back, to be able to hug me and see me, and know that I was alive. But that wasn't enough for me. It wasn't enough for me to feel safe, to know that _I_ was okay. I wasn't okay with just being rescued and taken home, or to the police station, or where ever we would go. I wasn't okay unless _he_ was okay.

"Nate's not," I whispered in response, choking back a sob. Jason stiffened and the rocking stopped. I felt his warm, nervous breath against my neck and I held my own. I didn't want to hurt him anymore than he already was. He was still so in the dark about Nate.

"I know," He breathed full of remorse and regret, "I saw the news report." I wanted to yell. How could he be so stupid? This wasn't my Jason. I mean, Jason could be a bit of an airhead sometimes, but that wasn't really him. That was him being silly, and I knew that. He was an intelligent guy and he couldn't have honestly believed that we were dead because of that news report. Especially after seeing me here, alive, he should have realized that Nate still had a chance. A chance that was getting so much smaller as the clock ticked away. So I shoved him away.

"He's not dead!" I cried. I refused to believe it. There was still a chance and while I may have been going out on a limb, I was going to take that chance. I wasn't going to give up on Nate, and I never would. He had cared for me and protected me from the very start, from the nightmares to the very end. Now he needed me and I couldn't turn away from him, I couldn't give up on him, and I couldn't sit here, just hoping that things would turn out okay. I had to do something.

I tried so hard to get to my feet. My legs hurt and I leaned against the wall for support. Miley, Jason and Shane all stood up around me, trying to convince me to sit back down. They wanted me to stay here, to wait for Miller to kill Nate. Not a chance in hell.

"Get away from me!" I screamed. My voice was scratchy and it hurt to yell. I didn't care. They all seemed shocked and stepped away automatically. My arms were out in front of me, keeping them at a distance. Again, they exchanged glances as if they thought I couldn't seem them. I knew. I was aware that they thought I was crazy, and out of my mind. If only they knew the kind of serious danger their brother and friend was in. If they did, I bet they wouldn't think I was so insane.

"I-" My voice cracked, "I have to get to Nate." They all eyed me and Shane moved forward first.

"Lola, it's okay," He told me softly, his hands out towards me cautiously, "Oliver knows where he is. He's getting police and everything, okay?"

"No!" I screamed, "You don't understand!" My heart clenched and my tears came lurching forward. The police couldn't help, not when Miller was a cop himself. He'd find a way to twist it around. He'd find a way to make himself seem innocent in all of this. He'd probably kill Nate and then make it seem like he was 'too late' to save him from the killer, who happened to 'get away'. If Miller could fake two celebrities deaths, then he could easily fake this.

"Lola-" Shane began again, but I hastily cut him off, sick of hearing it.

"It's Lilly!" I yelled, completely off topic, and then shoved past them. I couldn't waste any more time. I moved quickly past the door, faster than I probably should have the way my body was beaten, and up the stairs. The three of my friends followed, trying to coax me into coming home with them, and resting. I understand that they were worried for me, but the way I saw it was that I was okay, so Nate should have been the concern, not me.

When I got to the top of the stairs Oliver was gone. The car he'd came in had vanished and I assumed that he was already on his way to wherever me and Nate had been held. I felt so defeated, like there was no way that I could help because there was no way I could get there. I had to though. I had to find a way and I was determined to. I found a car in the garage, how typical. This is the only time in my life that I had ever been thankful for the week I'd spent in Henderson before Christmas vacation. The trip that I'd gone on to see my brother and my dad that had made me miss my winter formal was also the trip that my brother taught me to hot wire a car. I never thought I'd need it and I never knew exactly why he told me the bits of information, but I found it coming in extremely handy right now.

The three of them, Miley, Jason, and Shane, I mean, were almost put to ease. I climbed into the car and they thought that would be it. They figured that without keys, I wasn't going anywhere and they could keep me safe here until someone came to get us. Jason was already dialing out for someone to pick us up when the car roared to life. Jason's head shot up from his concentrated call, and his jaw was slacked. None of them could believe that I had just done that. They stared at me for just a minute before I shocked them back into action.

"Are you coming, or not?" I barked, and Jason immediately grabbed the front seat. Miley and Shane slid into the back of the car and I pulled out of the driveway nicely. However, that was the only driving I did nicely that day, because once we were on the road, I floored it. Speeding wasn't a concern for me, Nate's life was. And if the cops pulled me over, good. Then I could just get them to follow me there, to wherever I was going. And where exactly was I going?

"Jason," I glanced over and I caught his eye momentarily, "Where's the place." Jason looked at me, confused, as if I should know. I knew why he thought I should know, but if only he had seen where we _really_ were. Without any more hesitation, he called Oliver on his phone. He held the speaker to his ear, his other hand gripping the seat as we weaved expertly in and out of cars. I didn't care if it was illegal, because I was pretty sure that _murder_ was worse.

"Seventeen Seventeen Cresthaven," Jason told me, clicking off from his conversation with Oliver. I was pretty sure that I could actually see Oliver's truck a few cars up.

"Its in the industrial neighbourhood, just outside of Malibu," I could only nod, keeping my eyes on the road and trying to keep us out of an accident. With each car I cut off and each lane change the beat of my heart quickened. We were getting closer and closer, and I wasn't sure just what would happen when I finally stopped this car and got out. I was almost afraid of what I would find when I got to 1717 Cresthaven. Would I find him dead, or alive? I desperately crossed my fingers for the latter.

It was just forty five minutes later when I found the car pulling up in front of the warehouse. I didn't bother to park nicely, instead merely stopping the vehicle on the property close to Oliver's. Oliver had also called the police sometime during his drive here and I knew they were on their way. I jumped out of the car, my hands nearly shaking. I felt a hand slip into mine and I looked up to find Shane smiling down at me. He squeezed and I squeezed back. Neither of us knew what to expect once we stepped inside those doors, but I had a better understanding than most. I knew somewhere amongst the maze that Miller had likely set out for us, there was a house, a replica- we just had to find it.

Cautiously, the five of us walked forward. Oliver pried open the door and it creaked unnaturally loud. He held his gun in his hand, and you could really see that he was his mother's son. He lead the rest of us down a grimy hallway that looked no better than the outside of the warehouse. The ceiling leaked some kind of liquid and it created an incessant drip as it hit the floor. It made the scene all the more tense and my heart clenched at every moment, my hand still in Shane's. None of us knew where we were going and which way was which, and it made me nervous to know that Miller had the upper hand. He knew how to get around, how to sneak up on us. And then I saw it. It was a rather large, plain door with a blue spray painted line on it. It wouldn't have stood out if I hadn't known. I remembered it. It stood out in a memory, but I couldn't remember which. It was somewhere between being in the police file room and waking up in 'Shane's' bedroom. Immediately I stopped, staring at it blankly. This _had_ to be it. I squeezed Shane's hand, and my eyes met Oliver's. Deep breaths, Lilly, deep breaths. My eyes shut, the air filled my lungs, and then I pulled the door open.

My eyes saw nothing but stairs. I spared a glance at everyone around me and Oliver came to my side. We walked down together. Each stair made a noise as we let our weight fall onto it, but we tried to stay quiet. In those seconds, you couldn't hear a breath, or a heartbeat. There was nothing but the tiny taps of our feet on steel stairs, until we hit the bottom. The door was marked with another blue line and I felt my heart beat faster and harder. We were getting closer and I was so nervous; so scared. Prayers ran through my head at a mile a minute as I wrenched that next door open.

Computers and monitors surrounded us. My eyes immediately scrunched into a confused face. Slowly, I treaded into the room, having no recollection of it. The monitors showed absolutely every room in the house, at every possible angle. We all shuffled into the confined space. I watched the monitors almost in awe, until my eye caught just one. No.

The quiet room heard me suck in a tremendously large breath, and then I shuddered. I had to grab onto a nearby desk to keep from falling over. Shane's hand was on my shoulder, and Oliver was on my other side. Each of them looked at me, scared for a moment. They rushed questions at me, asking me if I was alright, but all I could do was stare at that screen. It was on the third row, the second monitor from the left, but it didn't matter because it was the only one I could see. He stood in that hallway, stock still, and _calm_. He watched the gun as it stared him down and he didn't do a single thing about it. I watched their mouths move but I couldn't hear anything. Frantically my eyes shot down, searching the buttons and slides on the control desk beneath me. My hands played around with several in a few moments, and then I hit the right combination. I heard just what I didn't want to.

"Just don't hurt her," Run through the speakers of the control room. The sob escaped my throat and I felt my knees weaken. Oliver and Shane grabbed me before I had the chance to fall. Their eyes immediately followed my gaze once they knew that I was steady. Everyone watched carefully as nothing happened. I waited for something, anything at all, but neither Nate nor Miller moved an inch.

"Pull the trigger! Do you need an invitation?! What the _fuck_ are you waiting for?!" Nate's voice rang out. I ran. I didn't wait any longer to see anything else. The only other door in the control room, besides the one we'd come in through, was ripped open and I ran inside, followed by Oliver. There was a hallway in front of me, and a staircase to my left. I flew up the staircase without a second thought until I reached the landing I was trying to reach. There were four doors lined along the wall, labeled nicely in case Miller forgot which was which. I chose the one labeled, "Upper Hall J" and with a click of the lock, whipped it open. It slammed with a bang, and I heard it connect to something. With an instant, I knew exactly why we had never been able to get into Jason's room.

I breathed easy when I saw Nate standing up against the wall. The ease washed away when the red came and I watch it seep through his shirt with absolute horror. My breath shuddered as I took it in, my eyes wide and my mouth gaping. Miller was against the ground. The door had swung into him, knocking him down and shocking him into pulling the trigger.

"Nate!" I screamed, lunging forward towards him. His face was blank, and his eyes darted down to his side. He pressed his hand against the wound like it was nothing. He raised his hand to his face, looking at the vast amounts of blood on it before letting his eyes wander to me. He breathed in deeply and then his knees began to give out. I tried to catch him as best I could, but he was much too heavy for me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered that Oliver was holding Miller at gunpoint and that Miller wasn't completely objecting. Miller knew it was over as well as we did. The cops were coming and he was still shaking from placing a bullet in Nate. He was talk, he talked like he was some huge criminal, but he didn't even have the guts to hurt someone that he knew wasn't involved. He still had some good cop in him.

"Nate? Nate, hey," I spoke to him. His head rested in my lap and he looked up at me with those gorgeous eyes. I ran my hands through his curls, mustering up my best smile to send to him. I tried to be of any help to him, trying to make up for everything he had given me throughout this entire ordeal.

"Your going to be just fine, okay," He gently nodded, grimacing as the pain began to spread through his body. I pushed his hair away from his forehead, trying to keep him distracted until some kind of backup arrived.

"The police are coming," I spoke gently to him, trying to keep his focus on me, "They're gunna get you to a hospital. They'll fix you, you'll be fine, okay?" I couldn't keep myself from crying. I felt the prickles behind my eyes and I knew I wouldn't be able to stop it. The silent tears spread from my eyes and they hit my cheeks.

"Don't cry," His voice floated upwards. His mouth tipped into a small smile, the best he could give through the pain. It made me cry more. Even now, with the side of his body seeping in blood, he tried to comfort _me_. "I'm okay, you don't have to worry," he scratched out. My sob came out as a half laugh, and I wiped gently at my tears. He was too good to me. And then it came to me, in that moment. My mind sorted through the words and my mouth prepared to say them.

"Nate," I sniffled, wiping again at my cheeks, "I'm sorry." He looked confused. "It- it wasn't a-" But my sentence was cut short. Everyone's eyes shot to the open doorway that showed the hallway that I'd just come in through. The door was thick and covered in sound proof foam, but since it was open, we could hear everything. I heard the pounding and the sirens, and the hoards of police as they barged their way through the control room and headed upstairs. Everyone's eyes remained on that doorway except mine. My vision traveled instead to Miller. I watched him closely, and my heart sped up as he reached for his abandoned gun. I stayed quiet, observing and then it all happened in a hurry. His nervous eyes shot to me and Nate, and then the click of the trigger. The blood spattered over us and then the police rushed in.

---

Hours later, I sat cross legged on a hospital bed. My blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail and I had on a baggy t shirt and a pair of sweatpants. I had already been examined and I would make a full recovery. Miraculously, nothing was broken, just seriously bruised. I had a few bandages, but the only noticeable one was the one covering the right side of my forehead. I sat stiff inside that room, staring at I don't even know what. I was concentrated on the thoughts going through my head, and the memories that wouldn't stop repeating themselves. I couldn't say that the experience had been terribly long, but it had been terrible. It had been painful, and agonizing and one that would haunt me forever. It was also one that I would be forever grateful for.

I snapped out of my daze when I heard a knock at the door. My head shot up and my lips turned slightly upward when I saw him. Oliver was standing there, leaned against the door frame. His hands were crossed over his chest and he was grinning at me broadly.

"Hey," He spoke, untangling his arms and walking into the room, sitting next to me.

"Hey," I imitated. My hands played with the edges of the blanket on my bed, as my eyes shot downcast, "How is he?" Nervously, I looked up again to meet Oliver's eyes. I'd been waiting for so long to hear something on Nate. No one could tell me anything because I wasn't _family_. I was furious, and scared, and everything all at once.

"He got out of surgery about an hour ago," Oliver explained, "Jason said he's sleeping."

"Oh," Was the only response I could come up with. It was lame, I did admit, but I had too much on my mind to worry about that.

"Um-" Oliver began, joining in on playing with the blanket edges, "How're you holding up?"

"Well, I'm covered in bruises, scarred for a lifetime, extremely worried about Nate, and I just watched a man commit suicide," I explained rather rudely, "but...I'm okay," It ended off with a tiny sincere smile in Ollie's direction. He shot one back.

"That's my Lilly," He leaned forward and pulled me into a careful hug. He didn't want to put any pressure on my bruises and hurt me accidentally, but I still appreciated the gesture. "You don't know how glad I am that your okay, Lilly," He spilled. I only hugged him back harder.

"Lilly! Nate's.. oh-uh, sorry. I'll come back.. uh, later?" Miley's guilty voice flooded the room. The girl was standing in the doorway, out of breath. She had apparently wanted to tell me something about Nate, but once she saw me with Oliver she stopped. I guess she thought she was interrupting us. Well, she kind of was, but I had been waiting for any kind of news for what seemed like forever now.

"Go," Oliver nodded knowingly. I smiled both thankfully and apologetically to him, getting up from my bed and brushing off my shirt. My feet found their way to Miley and she started rambling off everything.

"Um, Nate got out of surgery about an hour ago," She spoke, I responded with a simple 'I know'. "He's awake now. He's been asking for you." She led me down the hallway and we silently rode the elevator together. She walked me to his room and smiled at me, gesturing for me to go in.

"Have you seen him yet? Is he...?" I asked. She just shook her head. She gave me an encouraging smile and touched my arm before walking away. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself. I closed my eyes and felt my hand around the knob. I turned it, and slowly the door cracked open. I slide inside silently, my eyes covering every inch of Nate.

I couldn't help but smile. He laid on that hospital bed perfect as ever. His hair was messed up and his curls were sticking out at a few odd angles. He still had that one, amazingly awkward and yet cute curl that hung down into his face. His eyes were closed, and his chest rose and fell at a steady pace. He was absolutely glowing to me. He looked fine, except for minor bruising around his neck, and you would have never guessed he'd been shot. My eyes watched him closely and with adoration. This was my rescuer, my knight. He'd been the one who had protected me through it all, and he'd been the one who had successfully stolen my heart, even in the worst of times. I loved him and I wouldn't of had it any other way.

"Hi," Was all I could say, smiling at him. I stood next to his bed, my hand trailing lightly over the covers. His eyes opened slowly, and he turned to face me, groaning lightly as he shifted his sore body. His look of discomfort spread into a large smile the moment his eyes met mine.

"Hi," He responded. It was oddly reminiscent of another memory of ours, one that was clear in my mind. I watched him pat the space next to him, but instead I took a seat at the end of his bed. I didn't want to get in his way or cause him any more pain than I already had. I figured that sitting at his feet would give him all the space he needed. He seemed a little taken aback at the space I'd put between us, but it looked like he let it go.

"I- uh- well,- Nate, I-" I bit my lip, stuttering out words. I didn't know what to say to him. I didn't want to screw this up more than I already had. I looked down to my hands, which were playing with each other. I was dreadfully nervous about this confrontation. The fight was still fresh in my mind, and I wasn't sure if he would forgive me.

"Shh," He spoke, a light smile playing on his lips. It had the apologetic hints too it, I could tell, "It's okay. You don't have to say anything." My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I was sure he didn't already know, unless he was a mind reader. I watched him curiously as he sighed, and let his eyes slip shut. "I understand that it was a mistake. You were scared, and afraid, and-"

"No," I whispered, shaking my head. His eyes opened to meet mine, confused. Blue met hazel and I stared at him so deeply. "It wasn't a mistake." The sad smile became so much more sincere and genuine. It became ecstatic and overjoyed, but it wasn't getting its hopes up.

"Nothing with you was ever a mistake. I meant every word and every touch and every kiss." His smile grew bigger. As if he had no ounce of pain, he sat up in that bed, coming closer to me. My eyes shot down to my hands again, playing with them. Part of me was still afraid that he was hung up on me not being who he thought I was. I was half worried that he still wouldn't forgive me for that and his smile didn't convince me in this particular moment. I contemplated this, moving my thumbs in awkward patterns until his hands took mine. I looked up to him and his eyes met mine. I saw everything I ever wanted to see in them and every emotion I could ever wish for. I smiled back.

"I am so utterly and completely in love with you," He whispered, his hand moving up to touch my face, "_Lilly_." He stressed, I couldn't hold it in any longer. I smiled the biggest I ever have, and I felt my eyes well up with tears for the countless time. It was something I had never known I'd wanted to hear until Sunday, and it was something I wanted to hear forever and ever. I bit my lips, trying to contain my smile, but I couldn't. His thumb wiped away a lone tear and we just watched each other.

"I'm glad," I laughed, and he knew exactly the moment it was from, "Because I'm utterly and completely in love with you too, Nathaniel Gray," I heard his chucked. He didn't wait a second longer. His lips fit so perfectly with mine, and I couldn't imagine never feeling this again. Nothing would ever compare, or come close. I was elated, and I didn't think I could get any happier than I was then. When we kissed, the world stopped and there was only us. There was no past, no future, no arguments or grudges. This was a feeling I would always love, this was a moment I would never forget, and this was a boy I would spend my life with.

"Never anyone but _you_," I whispered, our foreheads pressed together, smiling. And then the only thing that had been missing in this moment came: The butterflies.

**A/N: Its done. That was the last official chapter and I hope it met your standards. I'm a little iffy on the last Nilly scene because it really couldn't compare to the Nilly scene in chapter 11 and 12 no matter what I did. I really hope you guys enjoyed it. Even if you haven't reviewed at all, if you've been reading, please leave a review and tell me what you thought of the story as a whole. I'd love your thoughts. Long reviews make me smile. **

**Ps. There is potential for an Epilogue if enough people would like it.**

**Review please! Thank you guys so much for your time in both reading this entire story and reviewing for it. It really means a lot.**


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